Pirates: Welcome to Tortuga
by LadySparrow01
Summary: "Miss Flint, please, one drink. As a peace offering. I know a wonderful tavern not far from here." He offered his arm to her. She studied him for a moment. Emera didn't trust this man as far as she could spit. He had 'trouble' written all across his face. But there was something compelling about him too. - A short story about what I imagine happens before Curse of the Black Pearl.
1. Part 1

Pirates:

Welcome to Tortuga

(A_ Pirates of the Caribbean _ShortStory)

By: Lady Sparrow

Tortuga by day and Tortuga by night are two sides of the same coin. While the small port was without a doubt filthy and bedraggled no matter what time it was, one had to admit that daylight gave the town a certain kind of beauty. Naturally the most popular time to be out and about was during the evening when the taverns and brothels would be at the height of providing entertainment. However mid day was also quite desirable if one had acquired the taste needed to appreciate the port's charms and graces. The air held a relaxed quality that was unknown to its evening patrons. Instead of the sharp anxiety of nightlife, daytime living in Tortuga could almost be compared to going on holiday in a lazy English country side. Almost, that is, if the stench of rotting food and bodily fluids aren't taken into account. Tortuga by day was certainly a sight to be seen.

It was mid day by the time Emera convinced herself to get out of bed. While she was reluctant to leave the comfort of an actual mattress (which was a welcome relief compared to the hammock which served as her accommodations aboard ship) the beckoning of the port just outside her window was too loud to ignore. The young sailor sat up and stretched. Her back hadn't felt so good in months. After quickly dressing she hurried down the Inn's flight of rickety steps and out into the brilliant Caribbean sunlight. She was only just outside the doors when a voice she knew all too well called to her.

"And just where is it you think yer going, young lady?" Her father leaned in the door way, his mouth pulled into a crooked grin.

"I've never been t' Tortuga before." She shrugged, "I wanted to explore."

Her father laughed, a deep hearty sound, that caused the lines in his face to deepen in a pleasing way. Captain 'Bloody' John Flint, named so for his mass of fiery red hair, took up most of the door way in which he stood. At his impressive height of 6 feet and 4 inches, he towered over his daughter and most of his crew. His shoulders were broad and his features were surprisingly handsome for a man that spent his days at sea. He was a real man of the world and Emera hoped to one day be just like him.

"I should have known." His blue eyes almost gleamed with amusement.

"So I can go?" Emera couldn't keep the excitement from her voice.

"Of course." Flint rubbed a hand over the rough growth of beard that hugged his chin and jaw, "Although I'm hurt that you wouldn't say goodbye to yer ol' Dad before you left."

"I'm not a child." Emera laughed as she ran back to embrace her father.

"No, I suppose yer not. What are you? Somewhere between twenty and twenty-three, I'd reckon. You know I've never been good at keeping track of yer age." He wrapped his arms around her tightly in a hug before letting her go.

"Probably even older than that." She smiled and flashed him a mischievous grin.

"Blimey, I hope not." He straightened his stiff back, "I'm not ready to be the father of a Lass of thirty years."

Emera laughed again, "Yer getting old, Dad. Before ya know it I'll be the Captain of _The Rose_."

"In yer dreams." He smirked and ruffled her short hair, "Now off with ya. Go have fun but don't get into any trouble."

"I won't." She promised and headed off.

"And be back before sundown!" He called after her.

Emera rose a hand in reply and continued walking towards the center of the town. It had been ages since she had been on shore leave and she intended to enjoy every second of it. Of course the playful banter she had with her father was also enjoyable, but she was in no short supply of 'family time' in the cramped confines of the Schooner that made their home. It would be a welcome change to stretch and not elbow a fellow crewman in the face. It was nearly impossible to get privacy while at sea. Every portion of available space was promptly filled with crew and cargo. When she was young Emera had made a habit of seeking out solitude in the ships dark hold. There, crammed in with the crates and barrels she at least could hear herself think. However maneuvering through the tight spaces became increasingly difficult as she grew and before long it was more trouble than it was worth.

Lately she had sought her sanctuary in the galley, helping Cookie make the evening meal or clearing up for him. She enjoyed the rich scent of foreign spices and the old sailors remarkable tales. She spent many an evening perched on a counter, peeling potatoes while Cookie regaled her with stories about her father when he was young. Emera smiled to herself and made a mental note to pick up some fresh ingredients for the old cook. Tortuga's markets were a cornucopia of produce from all over the world. Finding something to please Cookie's tastes would prove to be a simple enough task. The day was still young, and all of Tortuga lay at the young sailor's feet.

Emera wandered aimlessly about the port for a few hours. She took in the sights and sounds of the place, pleased to find that they were rather similar to life at sea. Men argued and bantered with one another while others worked or drank in the street. Although they spoke a wide variety of languages (only parts of which Emera could understand) the tongue was unmistakably that of men before the mast. It was the slang Emera had grown up around and she understood it well. Here, even the women were well versed in the language of the sea. As she passed a house of ill repute she heard a pair of young ladies bickering with a man.

"Now be off! You'll be dancing with Jack Ketch if ya come 'round here again!" The redheaded strumpet hollered.

Her companion, a dark haired lass, made a rather rude gesture as the man waved them off and stalked away. Emera had to stifle a giggle as she passed. 'Jack Ketch,' she knew, was an expression for the hangman's noose. It was a good threat, one that she would have to remember in the future. She left the brothel behind her and followed a cobbled street into an alley. The buildings on either side blocked out the daylight, causing heavy shadows to envelop the tight space. Used to the cramped and dark passages of the ship, Emera's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim alley. The sounds from the street faded as the girl made her way along the short-cut. It was peaceful in a way, silence was a rare gift, which Emera appreciated. But as all good things, it quickly came to a startling end.

The alley suddenly exploded into a storm of sound. Before the young sailor had a chance to understand what was happening, a man came barreling around the corner with a mess of destroyed crates and a group of angry pursuers in his wake. Obviously he had done something to infuriate the men that chased after him. He knocked over barrel in an attempt to block the path of his followers and whirled around, nearly running right into Emera. He stopped just short of her. His rich dark eyes examined her face in the space of a breath. Evidently he saw something he liked because the next moment his hand had locked around Emera's wrist.

"Run!" He advised quickly as he started down the alley again, this time with the confused girl in tow.

She didn't argue and wasted no time in debating the wisdom of her choice. Her legs pumped almost automatically as she was dragged by the young man. His free arm waved wildly as he ran ahead of her, Emera had never seen anything so ridiculous in all her life.

"Get that!" He pointed to a stack of wooden planks that were propped up against the side of a building.

Emera reacted without question. Her hand shot out as they passed, catching the planks and knocking them over. Glancing back to see whether or not the plank obstacle had been successful she saw that the enraged men had made it over the crates and barrels as if they where nothing. She picked up her pace, not daring to think what would happen if they caught up.

"Starboard!" Her guide shouted the warning only just before ducking down a pathway to the right.

Emera very nearly kissed the alley wall as she danced through the opening, "A little warning next time!"

"Port!" He nearly screamed

Again, Emera had to fling herself in order to make it through what could barely be called a passage way. The gap couldn't have been more than 3 and a half feet in width. Back pressed against the rough wall, she and the young man side stepped as quickly as humanly possible down the narrow path. Intense dark swallowed the two as they moved deeper and deeper into the knook. The young man stopped abruptly, causing Emera to slam into his shoulder.

"Oi!" She shouted.

"Shh!" He hissed through his teeth and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Emera struggled for a moment before the sound of their pursuers closing in on them filled the small gap. She nearly held her breath as she waited to be discovered. There was no telling what the wrath of those men would be like. She silently cursed the man beside her for getting her caught up in his problems. When the group of angry men stopped in front of the 3 foot opening, she found herself shrinking back. They had to be more than 5 paces away from where she stood but she couldn't shake the need to move as far away as possible. She would have been successful if the strong frame of her companion hadn't been blocking her way. Emera backed against him and the hand that had been wrapped around her wrist moved to her waist. He held her tightly, still covering her mouth. His face brushed against hers. She could feel his lips next to her ear and could feel his breath on her neck.

"Don't. Move." His voice came out in a soft whisper.

She froze. Every inch of her body went ridged. Her father had always warned her about men that would take women whether they were willing or not. While she knew it was something she should be weary of, she never imagined that she would be the target of such unwanted attention. She always half assumed that her boyish build and plain face would discourage any such advances. The girl waited but the only activity was that of the men in the alley. They argued, blaming one another for being slow or stupid, until finally they continued their search down away from the gap. Apparently the deep shadow had sufficiently hidden Emera and the young man from view. When Emera was certain that the men were out of ear shot she made her move. Opening her mouth under the young man's hand, she brought her teeth down hard on his palm. He let go of her with a yelp.

"Wait!" He called after her, but she wasted no time.

Emera scrambled out of the knook in a tangle of long limbs. The young man followed right behind her. Once free of the dark confine she tried to make a break for it but her companion made a grab at her and caught her by the back of her belt. She brought her boot down hard on his foot and he yelped again, letting her go. Emera whirled around to face him. Her fist made contact with his jaw in a sharp punch which caused him to stumble. He caught himself on the wall and regained his balance quickly. Emera made to run again but he snatched her upper arm in a tight grip and held her despite her struggling.

"I save your ruddy life and that's the thanks I get!" He bellowed, "Those men would have trampled you if not for me, Lad!"

She stared up at him in astonishment. He thought she was a boy.

"Lad?" She wanted to be certain she hadn't heard him wrong.

"Aye." He glared at her, "And what's more, I don't rightly appreciate you sinking your pearly whites into my palm!"

"Lad." She ignored him and tried to wrap her head around what had just happened, "So then... back in the knook... ya thought... ya weren't going to..."

"What?" His brow furrowed. Clearly he was just as confused as she was.

"Unless..." She gave him a once over.

He stood only a few inches taller than her and had a slight build. Judging by his clothes he was a man of the sea. They were well made but dirty and tattered, matching the faded red bandanna that sat tightly across his brow. His hair hung past his shoulders in tangled black locks which were adorned with beads and trinkets. A braided beard covered his chin and dark roughage lined his jar and upper lip. His dark eyes where kohl rimmed and darted around, taking in his environment and calculating. The young man's face would have been handsome had it been clean and if Emera hadn't been terrified of him a moment ago.

"Well... you certainly look like a whoopsie." She shrugged.

"A whoo-" He stared at her, "I'm flattered son, but I prefer the fairer sex."

Emera snorted, "And I'm Queen Anne of Great Britain. Charmed I'm sure."

"I'll have you know I've romanced more women than I can count." He flashed her a charming smile.

"If that's so then, what the bloody hell was going on in the knook?" She countered.

"This mad notion called: saving your life." His eyes were wide and he spoke with his hands, stepping so close that he was nearly nose to nose with her.

"Saving my life?" Emera let out a sharp laugh, "Yer what put me in danger!"

"Of all the ungrateful..." He clenched his teeth in frustration.

"Ungrateful?" Emera glared, "Listen here you ponce - !"

"Ponce?! You little gilflurt!"

"Picaroon!"

"Quean!"

"At least I don't smell like one!" Emera shot back.

"You look like a girl!" He retorted.

"That's 'cause I _am_ a girl!" She shouted, then smirked.

His brow furrowed again and he glanced down at her chest, "Are you positive about that?"

Emera planted a hand into his shoulder and shoved him away, "Very."

"In that case," He straightened himself and put on a charming demeanor, "might I buy you a drink Miss...?"

She crossed her arms over her ribs, "No. I wouldn't drink with ya if you were the last man on Earth. Besides, I've got t' be getting back."

"I insist." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "I feel bad for that 'quean' remark. I want to make it up to you. After all, you were rather helpful back there what with the planks."

"Yer welcome. Now if you excuse me..." She slipped out from under his arm.

"You at least owe me your name." He rubbed the side of his face, "You did manage to land quite the blow."

She sighed and gave in, "Emera Flint."

"Captain Jack Sparrow." He introduced himself proudly.

"Well, Captain Sparrow, it was a pleasure meeting you." She said sarcastically.

"Emera - "

"Miss Flint." She corrected.

"Miss Flint, please, one drink. As a peace offering. I know a wonderful tavern not far from here." He offered his arm to her.

She studied him for a moment. Emera didn't trust this man as far as she could spit. He had 'trouble' written all across his face. But there was something compelling about him too. The way he held himself with such confidence, the tilt of his head... his smile. She took a step away from him. He was dangerous. She could feel it in her gut. His eyes beckoned to her, pleading for her to take his arm.

"One drink." He coaxed, "I'll even walk you home."

"I don't even know you." She shook her head a little, trying to clear it.

"It's just a drink." He shrugged, "Some say that's how you get to know someone."

She took a deep breath. He had a point. And she had called him some pretty horrible names, not to mention bighting his palm and punching him in the face. Maybe she did owe it to him. After all he _had_ saved her life... not that she would ever admit it. Emera could almost hear her father screaming at her to go home as she took his arm. He grinned down at her and the caution she had was swept up by the wind.

_'It's just one drink.'_ She told herself as he lead her down the street, _'Then I'll make my excuses and go back to the Inn.'_

"Tell me, Miss Flint," He started cheerily, "what do you know of sea turtles?"


	2. Part 2

***I'd like to apologize in advance for the French in this chapter. It is probably poorly translated due to the fact that I used Microsoft-Translate. I don't speak a word of it, so please bare with me. Thanks.***

"I still don't believe a word of that story, ya know." Emera laughed and set down her third empty pint on the table.

"What's not to believe?" Jack mused, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, first off," She tried to look serious but couldn't keep a straight face, "where did you find the rope? Did it just fall from the sky?"

Jack blew air through his lips and waved a hand at her lazily before leaning forward over the small table, "I wove it myself... from seaweed."

Emera laughed, "I'd have thought ye'd use hair or something t' that effect."

"And where, pray tell, would I find that much hair?" He stared at her intently.

She opened her mouth to reply but was distracted by how close his face was to hers. She thought it funny, that with the space of a cork between their noses, he somehow seemed more handsome than when they had been in the alley. She blamed the mead and the lighting. A cluster of candles burned in the center of the table, casting their corner of the tavern in a warm, gentle glow. The flickering light played across Jack's tan skin, setting it off in shades of gold in a most attractive way. She forced the thought out of her head and leaned back into her chair. It was definitely the mead. He smiled at her. The light danced of a few of his teeth.

"Are yer teeth capped in gold?" She asked him suddenly.

"Aye, a few." He set down his fifth rum.

Jack scooted his chair around to her side of the table, settling in close to her. He opened his mouth so she could see and started pointing out which of his teeth where gold. The young man accompanied the demonstration with vibrant stories of how he had gotten each one. Emera didn't believe a word he said. They were just as absurd as the story about him escaping an island using sea turtles as a raft. Her mind wandered as she watched him stick his fingers into his mouth in an effort to make her see what he was talking about. Of course the stories quickly became nothing but garbled mumbling as he continued talking despite the fact that his fingers were in the way. Emera had to admit that, once she got past his self-righteous attitude, he was in fact rather charming. He had a funny way of talking, which Emera liked, and a predisposition towards story-telling, which Emera shared.

"You know, Darling," He said as he wiped his hands on his trousers, "You would look rather fetching with a few caps yerself. Not gold though."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Silver, I think, would suit you better." He smiled again and leaned in close.

"Ya think so, so ya?" She ignored the arm he wrapped around her shoulder.

"I do." He raised his chin, defending himself.

Emera rolled her eyes, "Alright then, which teeth?"

"Open." Jack ordered.

"Are you completely certain that I won't bight ya again?" She joked.

"Open." He said with a laugh in his throat.

She complied and opened her mouth so that he could examine her teeth. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he used his thumbs to pull her lips this way and that. As it turned out, the teeth he recommended were the badly crooked ones. Her mouth was a mess, that she knew. He touched a thumb to the tooth that sat second to the right on her top row. It hadn't come in right and sat just behind her right-front and canine.

"That one, in particular, would look dashing in silver." He mused and released her from his gentle grip.

"I'll take it into consideration." She looked down at the table, trying to think of a change of subject, "Ya know... ya never told me _why_ you were on that island in the first place."

He shifted uncomfortably, "It's not a pretty story, Love."

"I'm sure I'll manage." She coaxed, her curiosity too strong to ignore.

"I'm not the sort what delves into his personal life." He took a deep drink from his rum bottle.

Emera watched him for a moment than said, "Fine. Landscape then, no details."

He sighed, his eyes fixed on the space just in front of him, "I was the Captain of the most wondrous ship ever to sail the seas. She was my pride and joy... but there was a mutiny and I was abandoned on that God-forsaken spit of land."

She nodded, suddenly feeling rather sorry for him.

"Have you ever sat on a beach and been forced to watched the most important thing in your life sail off without you?" He asked her without meeting her gaze.

"No." She almost whispered.

He gave her a hard, long look, "You're lucky then. It is not a pleasant experience."

The young sailor gazed back at him without a notion of what she should say. She had no real experience in comforting anyone, which was probably due to the lack of heart-ache present on her father's ship. The men never troubled one another with their problems, preferring to keep their feelings to themselves. And besides, if one of the crewmen ever did need to pour their heart out to someone, Emera would be the least likely candidate. She bit her lower lip and looked at the table as she wracked her brain for something to say.

"I'm sorry." She glanced up at him, "Truly, I am. I can't imagine what you must have felt."

Emotion flashed across Jack's face, in the time it took to blink, then vanished back to the recesses under his skin. He forced a smile and leaned back in his chair again. Emera wished she could offer the man some sort of profound wisdom, but unfortunately sympathy was all she had in her arsenal. Still, she had to admit, it was better than nothing... and he seemed to appreciate the sentiment.

"Now... enough about my tragic past." He planted his boots on the table and flashed her a smile, "Tell me about yours."

Emera laughed, pleased to hear the enjoyment in his voice, "Not until you get me another drink."

He sighed but said, "Fair enough. Don't run off on me, Darling."

"I make no promises." She smirked as he rose to get another round.

She watched him as he crossed the crowded tavern. He sauntered up to the counter and engaged the bar-keep in conversation. His motions and mannerisms were fascinating. From the way he cocked his head to one side to the way his hands flew about him as he spoke, Emera was utterly enthralled. Perhaps it was because the only men she had any real experience being around were all twice her age, but Emera found herself rather enjoying Jack's company. A few hours ago she wouldn't have thought it possible. Now however, as they sat talking, she found herself relaxed and comfortable in his presence. Every word that passed his lips made him all the more enticing.

_'Captain Jack Sparrow.'_ She thought to herself and a smile stretched across her face.

He gave her a funny look from where he stood at the bar and Emera realized she had been staring. She glanced out the window quickly, avoiding his gaze. It was dark outside and the girl's heart gave a sudden lurch as she remembered the curfew her father had set. She should have been back at the Inn hours ago. She flew to her feet and looked back to the bar. In the place that Jack had been standing in, only a moment ago, a mass of angry sailors were brawling. A fist fight must have broken out and now every able man (and even a few that weren't so able) joined in on the action. The fight quickly spread across the tavern floor. Swords were drawn and fists flew in every direction.

A shot from a pistol plowed into the wall not a foot away from Emera's head, causing her to hit the deck full on. Her chest and forearms slapped against the wood of the floor as she made contact. She hardly noticed the sting as she crawled under the table on her elbows. She locked her eyes on the door across the room but her path was completely blocked by the raging dispute that took place in the center of the tavern. And what was worse, Jack was nowhere in sight. She muttered a curse under her breath, praying to God that she would make it out alive.

Suddenly a figure dropped to the floor beside her. Emera shot a look over her shoulder expecting to see Jack, but was met by the cheerful gaze of a young woman. She had a broad smile and her mess of blonde locks that framed her wide face. Her dazzling green-blue eyes were fixed on Emera as she extended a hand out to her.

"Hiya! The names Kay. This is one hell of a fight, huh?"

Emera shook the girls hand and let out a relieved laugh, "Agreed. I'm Emera. Any idea how we get ourselves out o' this mess?"

"Here." Kay handed her a sword hilt first, "For starters, I think you'll be needing this."

"What about you?" Emera asked as she accepted the weapon. It's weight and the cool metal where comforting.

"Not to worry." The girl patted her hip where another cutlass hung from her sword belt, "I swiped that one off of a poor gent who no longer had use of it."

"Ugh... thanks." Emera eyed the dead man's sword, weary for a moment, but with the understanding that it was better than no sword at all.

"Don't mention it." Kay replied.

A poor sap fell to the ground near the table, causing the two girls to jump. They watched in horror as his opponent took hold of his ankles and dragged him back into the fray. His screams for mercy evidently fell on deaf ears because his captor made no effort to release him. If there was ever going to be a sign telling the girls to leave, that was it.

"Help me flip this table!" Emera shouted over the roar of the tavern.

Kay complied without a word. Together the young ladies toppled the table on to its edge, creating a makeshift shield. The two crouched down behind it and glanced nervously at the room on the other side. Emera wouldn't have thought it possible but the tavern had become even more chaotic. Glass shards covered the floor in a sea of razor edges. Broken tables and chairs lay either in useless heaps or in the hands of brawling Pirates. Someone fell from the upper level, landing hard atop a potted plant, causing it to crumble under their weight. And in the midst of all the madness, Emera spotted Jack making a hasty retreat out the front door.

Without thinking she leapt to her feet and shouted after him, "Jack! Get back here you coward and help us!"

He only shrugged at her before ducking out into the street, abandoning Emera and the respect she had for him. The girl was so angry that she had half a mind to charge through the room in pursuit of him. He had left her there without so much as a fare-thee-well. Not to mention that there was a pretty good chance that he was somehow involved in causing the brawl. Emera vowed to herself right then and there that if she ever saw him again, she would make him pay for leaving her there.

A pistol sounded from close by and a shot went whizzing past Emera's shoulder. Kay seized her wrist and pulled her back down behind the table. From the bar, the pistol's owner shouted something at them in French.

Kay made a rude gesture with her hand over the table and shouted, "Place la vôtre, vous gras Français baise!"

"Yer French?" Emera asked as another shot ripped into the wall behind them.

"Ma grand-mère morte a but mieux que cela !" She hollered at the Frenchman before replying, "My mother is. My command of the language is pretty limited. I'm great with insults, though!"

"Ah, I thought I understood some of that!" Emera laughed.

"Je vais te faire encule les deux quand je reçois mes mains sur vous ! Ils vont trouver votre corps dans les rue vous Sales français putes!" The Frenchman screamed.

"What did he say?" Emera asked over the sound of another pistol being fired.

"He says he's going to have his way with us and then dump our corpses in the street. He also called us English whores." Kay explained.

Emera ducked out from behind the table just long enough to bight her thumb at their adversary. A throwing knife bore its way into the table and Emera hit the deck. Although she knew her life was at risk, she was strangely enjoying herself. Clearly, the mead had something to do with that as well. She had never been in a tavern fight before. And she was loving every second of it.

"Je suis moitié Français vous misérable chatte!" Kay spat then said so only Emera could hear, "I'm starting to get sick o' this one. Any ideas?"

Emera looked around quickly in an attempt to take stalk of their assets. There weren't many. However, when she saw the rum bottle Jack had been drinking out of, her eyes lit up. She stanched the bottle by its neck with her left hand and tightened her grip on the dead man's sword in her right.

"One." She replied, "On my mark, head for that pillar."

Kay nodded and readied herself to run.

Emera took a breath to steady herself, then said, "One... Two...THREE!"

On her word, the young sailor lobbed the rum bottle in the direction of the bar. The two wasted no time in seeing if it hit it's mark. Instead they leapt from their shelter, making a mad dash towards the pillar that Emera had indicated. There was the sharp sound of glass shattering and the Frenchman screamed something neither of them understood. They slammed their backs against the wide oak pillar, chests heaving and smiled on their faces.

"Brilliant." Kay laughed.

"We've got t' get out o' here!" Emera replied.

"Aye. What do ya suggest?"

Emera glanced around the pillar, taking in the madness for a moment, "Yer turn. That was my one good idea."

"Right." Kay said cheerily, "Suppose it's time to handle things the old fashion way."

She drew her sword and gave Emera a broad smile.

"Watch my back?" Kay glanced out from behind their hiding place.

"Aye. Just lead the way." Emera clapped a hand on the girl's shoulder.

With a smile, Kay dove into the throng of dueling Pirates, with Emera following right on her heels. The madness of the tavern enveloped them in a crashing wave. Before she could blink, Emera was standing right in the heart of the battle. Someone took a swing at her and her body reacted automatically. Her arm flew up, raising her sword in a parry. Steel glanced off steel with a sharp clatter as the weapons kissed. Her opponent's sword was knocked to the side and Emera shoved past him, following Kay who was still moving forward through the onslaught. The girls pushed through, ducking and dodging as they closed into the center of the room. Pirates surrounded them on either side, blocking their path in every direction.

"Bugger!" Emera swore through her teeth.

"We're trapped!" Kay noted.

They moved to stand back to back, defending one another from the violence all around them. Surprisingly the two young women fought well together. Each responded to the other's moves as though they had rehearsed the steps. However, as skilled as they were, they were no match for the fury around them. The parameter they held began to close in on the two. Emera looked around desperately for something, anything, to get them out. Looking at the bar she saw the bedraggled Frenchman pulling himself to his feet, murder in his eyes. They needed to leave right then and there.

"This is looking grim!" Kay shouted as she kicked a man away from her, "I dunno how much longer I can keep this up!"

"Just hold on!" Emera replied, her eyes frantically darting around.

She was certain they were done for. There were simply too many warring people between them and the way out. Emera wished that she had never agreed to a drink with that bastard Sparrow. If not for him, she wouldn't be fighting for her life in a tavern. Then, suddenly, she saw their salvation. And the swarm of violence swallowed them whole.


	3. Part 3

Outside, the street was calm. The air had cooled some with the absent of the sun and there was a pleasant ocean breeze. Such tranquility was rare in Tortuga but, of course, it didn't last long. A chair came sailing through the tavern's front window in a roar of sound and a shower of glass. The piece of furniture exploded into shards as it made impact with the cobblestone street. Next to come through the window was Kay. She clambered through the frame in a mess of limbs, wasting no time in her escape. She was followed by Emera who very nearly launched herself from the portal in her haste to exit the brawl that took place within the tavern. Her boots hit the street and she seized Kay's hand.

"Run!" She instructed, already in a lope.

"What?" Kay had no choice but to follow, "Why? Where are we going?"

"Away from here!" Emera replied, "Run now! Questions later!"

They rushed down the street and away from the tavern. They didn't see the Frenchman lean out the window behind them. They did, however, hear him screaming something after them but neither stopped to listen. The two fled into the night with the sounds of indistinct French and brawling seamen fading behind them.

They ran until their legs and lungs begged them to stop. Then they stood, hands on their knees, gasping for breath. Emera felt as though her entire lower half was made of pudding. Her legs threatened to buckle right out from under her. Evidently, Kay felt the same way, because the young girl gingerly lowered herself to the ground where she preceded to sprawl out on the dirt. It was a while before Emera had gulped back air enough to speak.

"You were brilliant." She said finally before following her companion's lead and dropping to her knees

"Not too bad yourself." Kay spoke between labored breaths, "What did you say yer name was again?"

"Emera." She swallowed, her throat burning, "Emera Flint."

"Emera." Kay nodded and rested an arm across her brow, "Kay Smith. It was a pleasure to kick arse with you."

"Likewise." Emera laughed despite her exhaustion.

"Did you see the look on that Frenchman's face?" Kay giggled, "I thought we were done for!"

"And when we were completely surrounded," Emera snorted, "I was sure we weren't going t' make it out of there."

"Spotting that chair was a stroke of genius!" Kay laughed.

"Yer the one that threw the bloody thing out the bloody window." Emera replied, her sides aching from a combination of effort and laughter.

The two quickly fell into hysterics. They sat there, in the dirt, holding their sides and laughing until they couldn't breathe. Emera was so relieved to be out of the tavern that she didn't even care how late it was. She was just happy to have escaped with her life. After a short time the girls managed to compose themselves somewhat. Kay stood up and brushed herself off, face red from laughter and tears in her eyes. She held out her hand which Emera grasped so Kay could help her to her feet. Emera wiped her face with her hands. She was covered in sweat and no doubt a fine layer of dirt.

"I don't know how t' thank you." Emera grinned.

Kay shrugged, "No need. The way I see it, we were both in a tight spot. We helped each other."

"Still," Emera placed her hands on her hips, "if there's anything I can do for ya, just ask. I happen t' be in town for the next few days staying over at the Harbor Inn."

"I'll keep it in mind." Kay nodded, beaming from ear to ear, "And if you ever need someone t' fight at your back, just name it. We make a wonderful team."

"We do." Emera sighed and held out a fist, "It was wonderful meeting you, Kay."

"And you." The girl chuckled and knocked hands with Emera, the edges of their fists meeting lightly, "Don't you go and get yerself in any more trouble."

"I make no promises." Emera gave her new friend one last smile before heading off.

She wasn't far from the Inn and, surprisingly, she was in a good mood. The streets were still somewhat lively as she made her way towards the harbor. People were still drinking and singing despite the late hour. There was the strong aroma of sweat and alcohol in the air, but Emera couldn't tell if it was coming from the people around her or herself. Glancing down she noticed that her vest was covered in something. She brushed her hand across the garment, it was damp and stunk of rum. She vaguely recalled a stein glass being thrown at her in the midst of all the confusion and came to the conclusion that the smells were indeed coming from her.

The Inn was nearly empty when she entered through the front doors. There were a few people in the dining area, one of whom was passed out, and a clerk sat behind the main desk dozing. Not wanting anymore excitement Emera headed directly for the staircase. All she wanted now was to wash up and go to sleep. Her body ached all over and her clothes clung to her sticky skin in a most unpleasant way. It would be nice to change into one of her other shirts. Apparently the rum had soaked through her vest.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs her heart nearly exploded out of her chest. She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Emera's father sat sprawled across the first few steps, cutting an apple with a small knife. He had scared the daylights out of her but he seemed unaffected, as though he had expected her to turn up right when she did. She clenched the front of her shirt in one hand and tried to slow her racing heart. It pounded in her chest franticly.

"What are you doing here?" Emera finally managed, "Ya scared me senseless."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" His voice was dark but his face was calm.

Emera shook her head and watched as he ate a piece of apple. He didn't meet her gaze, instead he watched his hands as he began carving out another slice. Flint could be the most intimidating being on Earth when it suited him. Emera had seen him reduce grown men to whimpering piles on the floor. But she had never seen him act like this.

"I didn't mean t' - " She started.

"I don't want any of yer excuses, crewmen." He addressed her coldly, formally, as though they weren't father and daughter, "When I set a curfew for my men I expect them t' honor it. Are my orders a suggestion, Master Flint?"

She felt herself go stiff when he addressed her by her rank, "No, Sir."

"Is every man under my command expected t' follow my orders, Master Flint?" He finally looked at her, his eyes hard and emotionless.

"Yes, Sir." She replied, her voice weak.

"I expected better of you." He ate another slice of apple, "Do you think that just because yer my daughter you get special treatment? What sort of example are you setting for the rest of the crew? My hands are full enough as it is without running around after you."

Emera could feel the onset of tears. She blinked them back.

"This will not happen again, do I make myself clear?" He stared her down.

"Yes, Sir." She nodded.

"Good. Now then, where were you?" His voice softened some and he dropped his formal tone, indicating that he was speaking to her as her father, not her Captain.

"At a tavern." She explained and relaxed a bit, "A fight broke out and I got caught in the midst of it."

"Are you alright?" He leaned forward and brushed her hair aside from her face, "Let me look at you."

"Just a bit banged up." She told him as he inspected her.

"I'll say. You've got a split lip and a right proper bruise forming above yer eye." He shook his head a little, "Did you get punched?"

"No..." She said, trying to remember, "I don't think so."

He studied her for another moment before saying, "This is exactly why I set curfew Emera. Tortuga is dangerous at night. As grown up as you are, yer still a young lady and my daughter. I don't want you t' get hurt. Just count your blessings that this wasn't worse. I've been worried sick about you. I didn't know where you were or who you were with. You've got t' be more careful."

"I'm sorry, Dad." She looked at the floor.

"I know." He ruffled her hair and smiled a little, "I'm sorry too."

"For what?" Emera looked up and furrowed her brow.

"I've still got to punish you." He said flatly.

"What? But I thought -" She started.

He raised his hand to stop her, "As yer father and your Captain it's my duty t' insure that you've learned yer lesson."

"But I have -" He cut her off again.

"No arguing." He looked up at her from under his ginger bangs, "For the reminder of yer shore leave you will be escorted by one of the other Officers."

"Dad!" Emera pleaded, "I'm a Warrant Officer!"

"Exactly." He nodded, "That's why I have t' be so hard on you. It's this, or sending you back t' the ship. Choice is yours."

Emera sighed, "I'll take the escort then."

"Good." He offered her a slice of apple.

She took it and said between bites, "Who did you have in mind?"

"The Lieutenant." He shrugged.

"No." Emera stood her ground, "Not him."

"Why not? You and Briggs get on well enough." He looked at her, puzzled.

"Briggs is full of himself and doesn't take me seriously." Emera replied.

He furrowed his brow, "Fine, the Bos'n then."

Emera snorted, "Why do you keep sticking me with boring old men?"

"Why do you think you have a choice?" He laughed.

"Why do you insist on using Royal Navy titles?" Emera countered, "It just makes them arrogant and entitled."

"I run the ship the way I choose." His voice slipped back into 'Captain-mode,' "Proper titles command a level of professionalism. We may be Pirates but that doesn't mean we have t' be savages. Yer with Briggs and that's final."

Emera let out an exasperated sigh, "Why can't I just tag along with you then?"

He raised his eyebrows, "You want t' spend the remainder of yer shore leave following me around?"

"Why not?" She shrugged and kicked at the ground a little.

He cracked a smile, "Fine. We have a deal. Now go t' bed. You look half a wreck."

Emera nodded and stepped past him up the stairs. He didn't follow her. She didn't know why she hadn't mentioned Jack. After all, it really was his fault for abandoning her at the tavern in the first place Although... had she not agreed to go with him, she would have met her curfew with time to spare. Emera resolved that the fault was equal parts hers and Jack's. At least that made her feel less guilty for making her father worry. Anger bubbled up in her, albeit dully, as she moved down the long hallway. She hoped she never saw Jack Sparrow again.

The room she was staying in could be described as rickety at best. It was dark and practically falling apart. A window sat on the far end of the room, its panes dirty to the point of being opaque, with a tattered curtain falling over one half. A mattress had been shoved up against the right wall and served as a bed, despite there being no frame. A ratty old blanket covered the stained and straw filled fabric. Emera used this as a barrier between herself and the bed. Heavens only knew what the stains were from, not to mention the foul smell. Still, a room to herself beat the crew deck on The Rose. At least here there was no need for makeshift curtains and dividers. Here she had total privacy. Even if it was disgusting.

The floor creaked threateningly under Emera's boots as she crossed to the dresser which sat opposite the bed. She filled the bowl there with dingy water from the pitcher. Then she set to cleaning herself up. The girl scrubbed her arms and face, surprised at how much dirt and grime there was. By the end of it the water bowl was filled with a sickly mixture of filth. She glanced at herself in the cracked mirror that hung lopsided on the wall above the dresser. Sure enough, her father had been right. Her lower lip was cut open (which would account for all the blood in the bowl) and stung awfully. Pulling back her short bangs she could see the bruise over her left eye, already changing colour. She looked horrid and every inch of her body hurt. She quickly pulled off her vest and shirt, stripping down to her undergarments, before collapsing onto the grummy mattress. From there she pulled off her boots, tossing them to one side. Emera, too tired to do any more than that, fell asleep on the blanket still wearing her trousers.


	4. Part 4

The market was hot and stuffy the next morning. Emera's father had pounded on her door at day break (only a few short hours after she had fallen asleep) with the intent of hauling her down to the shops to 'beat the rush.' When they got there the streets were all but disserted and several of the shops weren't even open yet. The few that were had yet to close down from the night before. For the next several hours, Flint dragged his daughter from store to store, loading her arms with bags of supplies and telling her to pick up her pace. He was enjoying making her suffer. She could tell by the gleam in his eyes. She supposed it served her right and she finally understood that the chaperoning wasn't the punishment after all. It was the early hour at which he had woken her and the hard work he was now making her do. All that she could understand. What she couldn't wrap her head around was how he could be so damn cheerful. He had had just as much sleep as she did, maybe even less, and yet he had the disposition of a terrier.

Emera stood waiting as her father chatted with a man who was trying to sell them a new sextant. She shifted the sack on her shoulder uncomfortably. Something, she guessed a potato, was digging into her spine. The sack weighed a ton and she was tired from traipsing around after her father all morning. Normally she would have started complaining hours ago. But she was determined to be on her best behaviour in the hopes that her father would take pity on her and end her punishment early. Unfortunately, he was too distracted with the navigational tool in his hands to notice how wonderfully pleasant she was trying to be.

Boredom had set in and Emera resorted to amusing herself by attempting to move her bangs out of her eyes using only her breath. She was nearly successful in clearing her line of vision from hair when she saw someone out of the corner of her eye. She turned to confirm what she had seen and sure enough she was right. Jack Sparrow was on the other side of the square. He must have seen her staring because he waved and started heading right for her.

_'Bugger!'_ Emera thought as she watched him draw nearer and nearer.

She shook her head at him, shooting him a nasty glare. She didn't want him sauntering over with that stupid golden grin of his and start blabbing about their little adventure in the alley the other day. He saw the look on her face and made one of his own, only more confused and a little frightened.

'Go away!' Emera mouthed at him.

He cocked his head to one side and raised his arms in a shrug.

'Go! Away!" Emera mouthed again, straining to make the words clear without actually screaming at him. For added effect she nodded, gesturing to her where her father stood.

This time he understood. Or at least she thought he did. He pressed his palms together and gave her a quick bow before hurrying off. Once he was out of sight, she let out a sigh, thankful that she wouldn't have to explain the bizarre young man to her father.

"Emera... Emera!" Her father's voice reached her and she realized that he had been trying to get her attention.

"Hmm?" She hummed and spun on her heel to face him.

"What do you think?" He didn't take his eyes off the sextant.

"Oh... umm..." She scrambled for a reply, "I think it looks like it'll be alright. Do we really need another sextant?"

"Haven't you been paying attention, Lass?" Her father looked at her, "I've just spent the last ten minutes complaining about the one I've got."

"Ah, well in that case you should get this one." She shrugged.

Her father sighed and shook his head a little, "Yer tired. I can tell."

"Aye." Emera admitted, grateful that he had been the one to notice.

"Give me the sack." He held out a hand.

"Are ya certain?" She hesitated.

He laughed a little, a low rumbling sound, "Just give me the sack. You look dead on yer feet from being dragged around all morning. Why don't you go and get out o' here? Leave this to me."

"Really?" She was surprised by his sudden change in attitude.

"Aye." He took the sack and pulled her into a hug, "But not a word of this t' the crew, understand? I don't want them thinking I've gone soft."

He winked and ruffled her hair. Emera beamed at him, "Dad, yer the best!"

"And don't you forget it!" He shoved her playfully, "Now go on and get out o' here before I change my mind. And don't you dare get into any trouble!"

"I won't! I promise!" She grinned from ear to ear as she hurried off.

She couldn't believe her luck. Emera had been so certain that she would be stuck doing errands with her father all day but now she was free to enjoy herself. It was a miracle! No... it was her father's good natured spirit. Although he came off as being rather fearsome and ruthless, Emera new that deep down he just wanted what was best for his crew and family. He understood that she hadn't disobeyed him intentionally, but he had ensured that she wouldn't be so careless again. For that, she admired him.

It seemed as though nothing could dampen her spirits, that was, until she walked around the corner and straight into Jack Sparrow's chest. He caught her, keeping her from falling backwards with his strong arms. She righted herself and shoved away from him quickly. He let his arms slip from her frame gently. Emera cleared her throat.

"Thanks." She mumbled, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip, "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Same as all these other folks." He shrugged and gestured to the growing crowd, "I've come to purchase a few wears and maybe meet a few interesting persons whilst I do so. Who was that man you were with?"

"Huh?" Emera raised her eyebrows, "Oh, that was my... Captain."

"Really?" Jack flashed her a mischievous smile and started walking in the direction she had just come from.

"Oh, no ya don't!" She slammed a hand into his chest to prevent him from walking past her.

Jack let out a sharp little cough, made a sort of whimpering noise in the back of his throat and said in a strained voice, "I meant no offence, Darling. Only wanted to pay my respects to your Captain."

"Like hell you will." Emera's brow furrowed as she looked up at him, "The last thing I need is for you t' go and open that big fat mouth o' yers. Now come with me. We need t' have a chat."

She locked a firm grip around the front of his shirt and lead him away from the market square. He went without a fuss, which surprised her. She had been expecting a huge song and dance about it. Instead he simply sauntered behind her. Emera didn't know why she had referred to Flint as 'Captain' rather than 'father.' Lately it seemed she was doing an awful lot of things without knowing why. First she had accepted the drink with Jack, then she hadn't told her father about him and, in return, she didn't tell Jack about her father. She couldn't explain why she felt the need to sneak around the two of them. She was feeling too much to make sense of it all. It was like her emotions had shut down the logical part of her brain. She was guilty for upsetting her father and angry with Jack and herself. She felt too full inside, as though she would explode if something didn't give. She hoped the talk with Jack would help her to work out whatever it was she was going through. Whether that ended with an answer to why he left her in the tavern or with her fist in his face again, she didn't care. She just wanted it over with. When Emera finally felt that they were far enough away from the general populous she let go of him.

"Now, what's this all about?" Jack asked nonchalantly as he smoothed the front of his shirt.

"Mr. Sparrow - " She started.

"Captain." He corrected her, looking irritated, "_Captain_ Sparrow."

Emera sighed, trying to keep her temper under control, "_Captain_ Sparrow, I appreciated you getting me out o' harm's way yesterday. What I _don't_ appreciate is you talking me into having a drink with you only t' be abandoned in the middle of a tavern brawl. You got me in a world o' trouble. Explain yerself."

"Ah." He dropped his charming façade for only a moment before picking it right back up again and draping an arm around Emera's shoulders, "You see, Darling: I was at the bar getting our next round, just as promised, when a pair of rather... unsavory gentlemen decided they weren't particularly fond of the way I was looking at the barmaid. Unfortunately for me, these two happened to be the same gents that weren't fond of how I was looking at another lady of their acquaintance early that same afternoon. Hence all the running and hiding when I first met you. Needless to say, we got into another disagreement which happened to involve a potted plant and an inability to compensate for my cat-like reflexes. The plant went into the back of a monstrous looking man who clearly had some unresolved anger issues even before we encountered him. Thankfully Lady-Luck hadn't completely disserted me, like I originally thought, because fortune should have it that the beast of a man didn't see me and went after the two gentlemen I mentioned earlier. Things got heated very quickly and I made my leave. I'm only sorry that you got caught in the middle of it. It's good to know that you got out of their in one piece, Darling."

Quite frankly, she hadn't been expecting that detailed of an explanation. She let his story sink in for a moment before replying.

"Are you telling the truth?" She asked, her voice low and serious.

"Cross my black heart." He grinned at her and made an 'X' shape over his chest with his finger.

"I see."

"So, we're all squared then?" Jack raised his eyebrows, looking hopeful and rather sure of himself.

"Squared." She nodded, "But I still don't trust you."

He clutched his chest, clearly feigning shock but taking himself quite seriously, "Miss Flint, you cut me to the quick. You don't trust ol' Jack?"

"I don't _know_ 'ol' Jack.' As far as I'm concerned yer just some loony that kept me from being trampled only to leave me in a tavern that nearly finished the job." She shrugged out of his hold so she could look him dead in the eye.

His face softened, "I apologized for the bit about the tavern. As for not knowing me... well, I can't really blame you there. Our drink got cut short last night."

"Aye." She stepped away from him, "And a good thing too. Keep away from me, Sparrow."

Jack caught her wrist, "Emera. In what way have I greatly wronged you?"

She opened her mouth to reply sharply but the look on his face stopped her. He seemed as though he genuinely wanted to know. She hesitated, not sure of what to say. Perhaps he wasn't so bad. After all, she did have a tendency to jump to conclusions. She felt all of her anger dissipate as she realized what an idiot she had been.

"Ya... ya haven't... not really." Emera admitted, "I don't really know what's wrong with me. It would seem as though I'm not really myself."

"Hmm..." He nodded and considered her for a moment before saying, "I've got just the remedy for that."

"You do?" She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"Aye." He grinned, looking sure of himself, "Spending the day with Captain Jack Sparrow is sure to cure whatever ailments a young lady is suffering."

He offered her his arm. Emera searched every inch of his face for a hint of why she shouldn't go with him. She couldn't find a single one. It seemed as though he was truly speaking from the heart. Yet, some small part of her was still convinced that it was a bad idea. The last time she had gone off with him she had nearly been killed. And now he was in front of her again, waiting to whisk her away once more. She should have said no. She should have walked away from him. She should have gone back to the Inn and crawled back into bed.

... But she didn't.

She took his arm and said, "Alright."


	5. Part 5

Jack chatted merrily as they walked down a side street. He was taking her somewhere that he was certain she would enjoy. He refused to tell her just where it was that they were going, assuring her that it would 'ruin the surprise' and therefore 'make the trip superfluous.' Emera had just rolled her eyes, giving in. She was happy enough to have him lead her along, telling her the most wonderful (and no doubt fictional) adventure he once had. She listened with interest as he recounted the tale. He spared no detail and Emera found herself strangely at ease.

"... so then of course the Duchess recognized me and unfortunately that was right when her husband walked in. If not for the open window who knows what would have happened." He laughed as he finished up his story.

"So then, what of the portrait?" Emera asked.

"To this day I'm not completely certain. I'd like to think that she kept it. Anyway it doesn't really matter." He shrugged and took her hand in his, "We're here."

'Here' evidently referred to the rundown old lighthouse that they were standing in front of. It towered over the massive boulders that surrounded it's base. The ocean lapped up towards the crumbling building, licking at the stones and eroding them slowly. From the look of it, Emera could tell that it had been shut down for ages. One side of it was completely open to the elements, exposing the deteriorating steps and wooden support frames. It was a total wreck. Even still, it was the most fantastic thing she had ever seen.

"Does it still work?" Emera asked, staring up at the massive building.

"I don't think so." Jack smiled, "Still, we could find out."

"Let's." Emera hurried toward the ruin with Jack trailing behind her.

The pair entered the lighthouse through the gaping hole. Inside the old building was oddly beautiful. Foliage had begun to reclaim the ruin. Moss and vines crawled up the walls towards the ceiling, giving the space an almost enchanted feel. The place was also unnaturally quiet. The only real sound that could be heard was the crashing surf and the creaking of floorboards. Dust motes were released into the air with every step the two took. The tiny partials caught the light as they moved in the space, shimmering like something out of a Faery Story. The floor was littered with what was left of the wall. Stones and old beams lay precariously in the path of the two Pirates that now explored the space. Unfortunately for the pair, the base of the stairs had also collapsed, thus sufficiently blocking their way to the gallery.

"Looks like this is as far as we can go, Love." Jack said as he craned his neck to look up at the crumbling steps.

"Nonsense." Emera walked around the small space, "I'm certain that there has to be another way up."

"While it is in my nature to allow a lady to have her fictions, what with my being a gentlemen and all, I feel I must point out to you that this," He gestured loosely towards the wreckage around him, "is what's left of those steps."

"Come now, Captain Sparrow," She set her hands on her hips, "surely you've worked yer way through more troubling obstacles than this?"

"Of course." He raised his chin, defending himself.

"Then," Emera smiled, "come on and help me look for something t' get us up there. Yer the one that brought me here in the first place."

He sighed, "Aye. Indeed I did. Right then, I'll look over here. You look over in... that general area."

He waved his hands towards the far side of the ruin. Emera smiled and did as she was told. There really wasn't much to work with. She searched her area while listening to Jack mumble under his breath and toss things this way and that. She couldn't make out exactly what he was saying but she unmistakably heard him mention something about women always being the reason for him getting in trouble. Emera had to stifle a laugh while she searched. Just as she was regaining her composure a chunk of stone went sailing past her.

"Oi!" She whipped around, "Watch it! You nearly took my head off!"

"Never mind that." Jack waved an arm at her without turning around, "I've just found your ruddy way up."

Emera jogged over to investigate. Jack's solution was brilliantly simple. He had managed to find rope and a sturdy looking plank of wood. By fastening one end of the rope to the plank, then tossing the other end over exposed beams, the two were able to create a pulley with which to lift themselves. Of course the actual act of throwing the rope over the beams took several tries before they captured success. Once they were set, Jack instructed Emera to sit on the plank so he could haul her up.

"What about you?" She asked as he began hoisting her up.

"Just pull me up once you're at the top, Love." He said with a smile.

The ride up was shaky. Several times, Emera grasped her seat, afraid that she would fall onto the hard stone below. Each time the plank threatened to give out, Jack would cease heaving and ask her if she was alright. Eventually she made it to the top and clambered up onto the ledge there. Then, she lowered the plank for Jack, taking up the rope herself.

Now, having lived on the sea for most of her life, Emera wasn't exactly feeble. She could manage her own more often than not. However, she was nowhere near as strong as the men aboard her father's ship. When she had been younger, strength had been a point of pride. She would constantly deny the help offered to her in the foolhardy attempt to prove her worth aboard _The Rose._ When she grew older she was able to graciously accept the fact that there were just some things she couldn't do. Lifting Jack seemed like it should be one of those things. He was incredibly heavy. Although the makeshift pulley system did help some, she strained to pull him up to the ledge. Throwing all her weight behind her effort, she trudged away from the ledge, heaving the rope over one shoulder.

"Almost there." Jack encouraged her.

Suddenly there was a snapping sound and the rope went slack, causing Emera to nearly fall right on her face. Jack let out a cry of surprise from somewhere behind her and her heart leapt into her throat. She scrambled towards the edge, terrified that he had fallen when the rope gave out.

"Jack!" Emera called to him as she dropped to her knees by the side of the ledge.

He looked up at her from where he was dangling, his hands grasping a notch just past the edge of the drop off, "Little help there, Darling."

"Right." Emera took hold of his arm, just above the elbow.

She acted as an anchor for him, bracing herself firmly against the stone ledge so that he could haul himself up over the lip. After quite a bit of kicking and cursing Jack managed to get to safety. He sprawled out on the crumbling stone steps, breathing hard but smiling. Emera braced her hands on her knees as she tried to slow her pounding heart. She had been so sure that he was going to fall. And yet, by some miracle or other, he was laying there beside her in once solid piece. Relief filled her as she sat there. Emera didn't even want to consider what would have happened should he have fallen. She giggled a little, panic now replaced by giddiness.

"You scared me half t' death, ya know." She looked down at him.

"Concerned for my well being, were we, Darling?" He raised his eyebrows and flashed her one of his charming grins.

"Only out of basic human decency." She reassured him.

He chuckled at her and gave her a knowing look, "If you say so, Darling."

"I do." She stood, brushing herself off, "Now, are we going t' sit around all day or are we going t' explore?"

"Lead the way." He reached out to her.

Emera clasped his hand and helped him to his feet. Together they started up the spiral staircase towards the lighthouse's gallery. It became increasingly darker as they wandered up the steps. Eventually the only light came from the occasional windows that were no more than a foot in height and width. The two clung to the walls in an effort to guide themselves. It was a long way up and the darkness only added to the danger of the already unsteady steps. After what seemed like a long time of wandering through the dark, the two young Pirates finally reached the top. The galley was glassed in and flooded with light. In the center sat what was once a series of lenses as well as a huge oil drum.

"This place looks just as run down as the base." Jack observed.

"Still," Emera shrugged and crossed to one of the windows, "it's a lovely view. I can see right t' the edge of the World from here."

Jack moved to stand beside her. He braced his hands on the rail before him and looked out across the sea. He seemed distant despite being not more than a few inches away from Emera. She thought perhaps that he was thinking of the ship he lost.

"Are you alright, Jack?" She asked.

"Fine, Love." He smiled at her.

Emera brushed her banks to one side before saying, "Ya know, this place reminds me of where I grew up."

"You grew up in an abandoned lighthouse?" Jack smirked, "That certainly explains a few things."

"No." Emera shoved him playfully, "When I was little I lived in a big old house with my father. We were nearly right on the shore and from my bedroom I could see right across the ocean like this."

He watched her intently, "What made you become a Pirate then, Love?"

She snorted a little, "I... I didn't mention this before... but that man I was with earlier isn't just my Captain. He's my father too. And he's been a Pirate since before I was born."

"Huh." Jack took a moment to process the information, "That certainly would explain the resemblance."

Emera rolled her eyes and looked back out the window. She could see the ships coming into the harbor and the men working below on the docks. It really was just like the view from her childhood bedroom. It had been so long since she had been back there, but she would never forget what it looked like. The young sailor almost expected to feel her father wrap his strong arms around her and rumble in her ear: _'One day, Bean, you'll be sailing out there beside me on The Rose.'_ The happiest day of her life was when he kept that promise and gave her the rank of Master aboard his ship.

"What's it like, sailing under the command of your father?" Jack leaned back against the rail so that he could look at her.

Emera glanced at him, "It's nice... most of the time. Ya see, I'm a Warrant Officer. Master Flint. My father takes things aboard ship very seriously. He was in the English Navy for a long time and their regulations sorta followed him when he turned Pirate. He can be so frustrating sometimes with all his rules and boundaries."

"What made him turn Pirate?" Jack's voice was gentle.

At this, Emera smiled and looked at her boots, "My Mum did. He fell in love with her while on shore leave, but he knew they could never be together if he was in the Navy. So that was it. They commandeered his ship and sailed off together... or at least that's the way he tells the story."

"I suspect your mother tells a different tale." Jack pressed her on, grinning.

"I wouldn't know." Emera shrugged, "She took off when I was still very young."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Not t' worry." She smiled at him, "Ya didn't know. What about yer family, then? Have you always been a Pirate, like me? Or did you cross over, like my Dad?"

"I was born at sea." He told her, his voice was soft, "It's been in my blood all my life. I can't imagine being anything other than what I am, Darling."

"And yer parents?" Emera nudged him a little with her elbow.

"Another time, perhaps." He flashed her a smile and pushed himself up from the guardrail.

Emera crossed her arms, "Not fair. I told you about my family. Now it's yer turn."

"Another time." He made another 'X' motion over his chest, "I promise."

She sighed, giving up, "Fine."

He studied her for a moment before saying, "I dunno about you, Love, but I'm starving. I could do with some food, what say you?"

Emera thought back to the quick mouthful of dry bread she'd had that morning and realized just how hungry she was, "Aye. Let's go find something. And _this _time we're going to a place that _I_ know."

"You are never going to let me live that down, are you?" He set a hand on her shoulder before the two started back down the steps.

"Never." She grinned, wrinkling her nose slightly.


	6. Part 6

The two Pirates stood side by side looking down at the sheer drop in front of them. The pulley they had previously made lay on the ground level of the lighthouse, out of reach and completely useless. Neither of them had stopped to consider how they would get back down after all the effort it had taken to get up. And now, they were stuck.

Emera ran her hands through her short bangs as she stared down at the hopelessly ruined device. How had they missed something so obvious? She closed her eyes tight trying to think of a solution. Beside her, she could feel Jack edging towards the drop. She guessed that he was trying to calculate just how far it was to the bottom. However she silently begged that he would be careful. Her stomach nearly crawled up her throat at the mere thought of him dangling from the ledge again.

"Jack." She started, looking at him seriously, "Knock it off, will ya?"

"What?" He shrugged and flashed her a smile.

Below their feet there was a sudden shift. With a harrowing sound like thunder, the step they were on began to crumble. The two leapt back in shock, struggling to get to the safety of the next landing. Emera's heel caught on the lip of a step and she toppled backwards, her bottom striking hard on the stone. In the mess of things, Jack was somehow pulled down with her and they landed in a heap of limbs. The step crashed to the ground below with a sound like cannon fire that rattled off the walls long after it had made impact. For a moment all they could do was sit there, clutching one another. Emera's face was buried somewhere between Jack's coat and his chest. She clung to him tightly, scared that if she let go, he would fall.

It was a moment before she became aware of his arms around her. Obviously he shared in Emera's fear of falling, for he nearly crushed her as he held her close. They sat there, his presence a solid comfort against her. In turn, the girl had all but wrapped herself around him in her haste to escape plummeting to the ground. They sat there, clinging to one another and thanking their lucky stars. After a moment Emera glanced up at Jack. His eyes were locked onto the place where a step had been only moments before. His fingers gripped her clothing with an almost desperate hold. Slowly, Emera was able to assure herself that they were on a solid piece of rock. The step they now sat on wasn't going anywhere. However that didn't seem to convince her fingers to let go of Jack's sleeve or her arm to remove itself from around his shoulders.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked finally, his voice soft.

"Aye." She nodded, but did not move from her place against his chest, "You?"

He looked down at her, "Aye, Love."

Emera watched him as he studied her face with those dark eyes of his. All at once there was a riot of feeling within her. Her stomach twisted itself into tight knots and seemed to bubble within her. Her heart hammered in her chest again as she took in the features of his face. It was hard to believe that this was the same young man that she had met the day before. At first she had thought him only mildly handsome compared to other men she had seen. Now, he was something completely different. He was beautiful. He was something Emera had never seen before. Why hadn't she noticed it earlier? Her chest felt too full, as though it might explode outward if she didn't do something about it. She tried to breathe but the anxiety present in her stomach made the air enter her lungs in choppy, uneven waves.

"I've got you." He murmured gently.

"Jack..." She had to force herself to speak.

She had intended to tell him to let her go but she couldn't make the words leave her mouth. She wanted to shove him away from her, half believing that clarity would come with his distance. However Emera couldn't make her arms work against him. Instead she found herself gripping him all the tighter. It was when he moved his hand to the back of her neck that Emera understood. Now she could comprehend what was taking place between them. His face drew impossibly close, his nose brushing against hers. Panic exploded in her chest again and she pulled away from him sharply. Before she had time to think, she had plowed her fist into the side of his face again. Her knuckles made impact, causing him to dance away. He scooted along the floor until his back was against the opposite wall. From there he clutched his face where she had punched him, his eyes flooded with confusion and his brow furrowed. Emera could only stare at him in horror.

"Ow!" He shouted at her, his voice echoing, "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I..." Emera pressed herself against the stone, "I dunno... just stay away from me, alright?"

"No." He shook his head at her, "Not until you explain yourself, Love."

"Don't call me that!" Emera pleaded as emotion whipped through her like a wild hurricane.

"Eh?"

"Don't. Call. Me. That." She repeated slowly, "I'm not yer Love or yer Darling or anything like that. I... I don't know you!"

"My mistake, Lo- Em- Miss Flint... whatever!" Jack waved his hands around wildly, "I was under the impression that we were getting along splendidly and then you go and clout me again!"

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, not meeting his gaze, "You just... and then... and I didn't mean... "

Why couldn't she form a sentence? It was like her tongue was too big for her mouth. It kept getting in the way and tripping her up as she tried to speak. She was incredibly aware of the of the distance between them, of his eyes watching her. God, how she wished he wouldn't look at her like that. Emotion took over again and fogged up her mind. She couldn't think properly. Too much feeling danced around inside of her.

"You... you were going t' kiss me!" She finally managed to spit out.

"I thought you wanted me too!" He looked bewildered.

"_What?_" Nothing he said to her was making any sense.

"You grabbed me!" He argued, "You said my name!"

"I was trying t' tell ya t' stop!" Emera explained, suddenly very embarrassed.

He rubbed the side of his face, "You bloody well could have tried harder. That's the second time you've punched me."

"Aye! But only because it's the second time you've gotten too close and handsy!" She defended herself.

"You were giving off signals!" He pointed at her dramatically.

"I. Was. Not!" Emera had never heard something so ridiculous in all her life.

"You were too, and you know it!" Jack pressed, "I have a tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature!"

Emera snorted at him, "Oh,_ please!_"

"Do to!" Now it was his turn to defend himself.

"Well," She crossed her arms, suddenly flustered, "you were wrong!"

"I'm never wrong!"

"Ya were this time!" She realized she had screamed the words.

Emera shut her mouth and looked away, far too embarrassed and confused to meet his gaze. The pair of them sat there in awkward silence for what seemed like a long time. How could he have mistaken her actions so drastically? Unless... unless she really had been giving off some sort of signal. Did she want him to kiss her? No. She shoved the idea from her mind, not daring to linger on it any longer. Nothing was clear anymore. She couldn't even trust her own feelings while he was around.

After a while Emera finally said, "So then where does this leave us?"

Jack cracked a smile, "If it's alright by you, Lo- erm- Emera, I'd say no harm done... well mostly no harm done. Obviously, neither of us were quite clear on what was happening."

"I'm sorry I punched you." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"And I'm sorry for trying to kiss you." He held out a hand to her, "Come on. Let's try to find our way down."

The way down ended up being less complicated than the two originally thought. When the step had given way, it left behind a series of notches and hand-holds in the flat surface of stone. Carefully, Emera and Jack eased themselves over the side of the ledge. It wasn't a difficult climb, however more than once Emera nearly lost her footing. Before long the two were both safely back on the ground.

"So then," Jack said with a smile, dusting himself off, "where is it you're taking me for afternoon tea?"


	7. Part 7

Jack and Emera sat together on the steps of a cafe. The place had looked moderately well kept, despite its dingy interior, which Emera deemed acceptable. It was also packed to the brim with seafaring men and questionable looking young women. Luckily, Jack had been able to catch the eye of the serving girl when she walked past the door. Pulling her aside, the two Pirates quickly set to ordering a meal of cakes and sweets. The girl jotted down their requests, hardly paying attention to Emera. She was captivated by Jack and Emera found that she couldn't blame the her. He was being blatantly (and intentionally) engaging. Ever determined to prove that he was a gentlemen, Jack paid for the food. When Emera had protested, insisting that she should at least contribute half of what was owed, he simply raised his hand and told the serving girl to 'ignore the Hellcat.' This landed him a soft punch in the shoulder from Emera, but she ceased her arguing.

The food arrived quickly, which the two Pirates were thankful for. They collected their bundles and settled down on the steps to eat their meal. The cafe was one of many that lined the street running the length of the harbor. From their prime location ships off all make and flying all manner of colours were set before them. The two chatted merrily about the assembly of vessels as they ate. Emera enjoyed Jack's never ending supply of information. He was extremely well educated in the matter. And, unlike so many other men, he wasn't condescending when Emera added her two-cents. It was in the habit of her father's sailors to either contradict her or ignore her outright when it came to the topic of ships. Emera knew that, despite growing up around water crafts, she still had a lot to learn. Jack, as it turned out, was the perfect companion for such a task. He listened to her and corrected her kindly when she was wrong or mistaken. He even delved into a few tales about the ships he had encountered while on his many adventures. Emera paid attention to every word as she stuffed her face full of the delicious sweets.

"Emera," Jack said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "I wonder if I might ask a favor of you?"

"Depends on what it is." Emera took another bight out of a tart.

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you." He explained, "I only wonder if you might accompany me to these very docks later this evening. I have some business here and, what with your experience with ships, I thought you'd make an excellent escort."

Emera shrugged and asked, "What sorta 'business' are we talking about, Sparrow?"

"Mostly honest business." He assured her, "Will you come?"

"I dunno, Jack." She sighed, "I was in a world o' trouble last night. I doubt my father would be very happy with me skulking around the docks at night."

"Do you always ask your father's permission before doing anything?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Shut it before ya go and ruin what has been a remarkably pleasant day." She warned, trying to look serious but failing, "If it means so much to you then I'll ask him. But I can't guarantee anything."

"Understood." He smiled then added, "So... you've found my company 'remarkably pleasant,' have you?"

Emera took another bite of tart and mumbled, "I said the day was pleasant. Not you."

"Why must you always be so contrary, Love?" He laughed a little.

She shot him a glare but smiled against her will, "Force of habit."

Jack laughed again, "I should have guessed."

"Be as charming as ya want, Jack. It'll do you no good." She returned her attention to the docked ships.

He chuckled at her then said, "I haven't any idea what you're talking about Darling. I swear I don't."

"You know very well what I'm talking about." She glared at him again.

_"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?"_ Jack sang with a laugh, once again commenting on her need to gainsay.

Emera nudged him playfully with her knee and replied, _"With silver bells and cockleshells, and pretty maids all in a row."_

The remainder of their meal was eaten between jokes and laughter. By the time they had finished, the sky was painted in shades of gold and purple. The harbor had quieted some since they had first taken their place our front the cafe. Most of the workers had ducked into the nearby taverns and brothels, eager to relax after a long day of labor. The sun was still present in the sky but the nightly Tortuga festivities had already begun.

"Might I walk you home, Miss Flint?" Jack asked with a charming smile as he offered her his arm.

"Why, Captain Sparrow," She returned his playfully formal tone, "I don't know what to say."

"Is that so?" He made a face.

"It is." She giggled.

"The answer you're looking for is: 'Oh Jack! How kind of ya! Of course you may walk me back t' me humble abode!'" He strained his voice, mocking what Emera sounded like when she spoke.

"I don't sound like that." She laughed and took his arm.

"Aye, you do." He raised his chin.

"No I don't!" She argued in good spirits.

"Love," He looked at her seriously, "I have spent many an hour with you since our initial meeting. You do sound like that."

Emera rolled her eyes, "Yer impossible."

"And you are incredibly stubborn." He replied smartly, "Are you aware of that? I feel I must tell you that it is not an overly attractive trait for a woman."

"Who said anything about me wanting t' be attractive?" She wrinkled her nose at him.

"Do you not?" He raised an eyebrow, "No wonder I mistook you for a boy when we first met."

Emera elbowed him again but smiled. As they walked towards the Inn they passed by several gatherings that were already in full swing. People spilt out of bars and cookhouses, drunk or beaten or both. Walking by a house of ill repute, the two young Pirates had to step over an old sod who had passed out in the street. Doxies cat-called at the pair from the balcony. Most of the remarks were aimed at Jack, however a few seemed to be directed at Emera as well. Weather this was because they couldn't tell her gender or just didn't care, she wasn't sure.

"By me a drink, sailor?" A blonde girl called from where she was perched on the rail.

Jack seemed rather tempted by the offer, but Emera managed to dragged him away from the group of seductresses. She laughed at him as he shot looks over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the women. The floozies continued to call after the two as they continued down the street.

"Did you, by any chance, see the legs on that beauty?" He asked as he craned his neck.

"Aye, that I did." Emera rolled her eyes.

"All flaxen hair and long limbs." He mused absentmindedly.

"Fine featured, big eyes, sweet mouthed... and probably riddled with all manner of maladies." Emera snorted, "What more could ya want?"

"My dear Lady," Jack defended, "I swear by my teeth that I only frequent the most respectable and sanitary of brothels."

Emera snorted again and laughed. The Inn wasn't far off from where they were. By the time they reached it, the sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon. She had successfully met her father's curfew, a fact that would add to her chances of convincing her father to let her meet Jack. She chewed the inside of her lip a little, thinking about how she would pose the question.

"Well," Jack said as they stood at the door, "we managed to survive an afternoon in one another's company."

"That we did, Captain Sparrow." Emera reached up and straightened his tri-corn.

He smiled at her, flashing his golden teeth, "I'll see you soon?"

"I hope so." She nodded, "Thank you for tea. And for taking me to the lighthouse."

Without stopping to reconsider, she leaned in and landed a quick kiss on his cheek. Her lips brushed against his face for a fraction of a second. His skin was rough and weather worn. As she pulled away Jack gave her a questioning look but his face was soft.

"Anytime, Love." He murmured.

Smiling against her will, she turned so that he couldn't see her face and hurried into the Inn. The girl couldn't explain why she had kissed him after all the fuss she had made when he had tried the same thing. Thinking better than to dwell on it, she pushed it from her mind, resolving that it had simply felt right at the moment. It was meant as nothing more than a gesture of her gratitude for the wonderful afternoon they had spent together.

Emera found her father in the dining hall, deep in conversation with his second in command. She moved quietly to a nearby table and planted herself. The exchange between the two men wasn't heated, but there was a sense of urgency to the words. The young sailor listened to the discussion carefully as she waited for an opening.

"I mean no disrespect Cap'n." The first mate said in a low voice, "All I'm saying is that-"

"I know exactly what yer saying, Philips." Flint's voice came out in a growl, "You can consider it noted."

Philips was a tall, rough-faced man that Emera had never much cared for. He caused a crawling feeling to erupt all over her skin whenever he was around. He had shifty eyes and grabby hands that made him look like a pickpocket, however he held himself like a King. She didn't trust him one bit. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. He always seemed to shoot her edgy glances or irritated looks when their paths crossed. But she would never mentioned it to her father. Philips had saved his life more times than either of them could count. And for that, Emera kept her mouth shut.

"But Cap'n- " He started up again.

"That's enough Philips." Flint squared his shoulders, signalling the end of the conversation.

"Cap'n." Philips rose to his feet and swept out of the dining hall.

Emera waited a moment before saying, "What did he want?"

He sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, "Oh, nothing that you need to worry about. Now then, what did you get up to?"

Emera smiled, "Not a lot. But I was wondering..."

"Wondering?" Flint pressed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Wondering... perhaps... if it isn't too much trouble..." She danced around the question.

"Out with it, Lass." He laughed.

Emera looked at the floor and said in a rush, "Could I go to the docks tonight?"

Her father blinked at her for a moment before his face turned grim, "No you bloody well may not!"

"But Dad- " She pleaded.

"No!" He stood, towering over her, "I'll not have you wandering the docks at night on yer own. It's out of the question, Emera. What possible reason could you have for being out there anyway?"

"I..." She nearly mentioned Jack, but thought better of it, "never mind. It's nothing."

"Good." He stretched his back, "Now, no more of this ridiculousness."

"Alright." She couldn't help but sulk a little.

Flint rubbed her hair as he walked past her and Emera watched him as he left the dining hall. She knew that her father was more troubled than he was letting on. Whatever Philips said had resonated with him. Oh, how she hated that man. The young sailor sighed and rested her chin on the back of the chair in which she was seated backwards.

It looked as though Jack would be on his own. Although she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, she was solid in her reasoning that it was better this way. At least now she wouldn't run the risk of finding herself in another difficult situation. She thought about Jack standing alone on the docks, realizing that she wasn't coming. She could almost see him trying to hide the upset look on his face. Emera ran a hand through her bangs and found the weight of guilt pressing down on her chest. She buried her face in her arms, trying to think as well as block out the visions of a lone and rather lost looking Sparrow.

The young Pirate went to bed about a half hour later. The Inn was dark but she certainly noticed the flickering candlelight under her father's door. She wondered, idly, for a moment if he was still considering what Philips had said. As she entered her room she wished she had been able to hear the whole conversation. At least then she might be able to offer her father some advice. Emera undressed quickly and settled onto her disgusting mattress, a distinct twinge of fault still present in her chest. She laid there for what felt like a very long time, thinking about her father and Jack and how she longed that she could have been more help to them.


	8. Part 8

***This part runs on for a bit. Sorry about that. The next one is shorter, I promise.***

The distinct sound of a pebble striking her window woke Emera not long after she had fallen asleep. At first she believed that she had imagined it. But then, when a second one struck the glass, she sat up. She crossed to the window cautiously. She nearly tip-toed, terrified that she might give herself away before she could see who it was. The young sailor's bare feet were light against the grimy floor. In fact she nearly held her breath. Emera unlatched the portal carefully and glanced out at the ground below. Her stomach did a back flip. Standing there, looking up at her window with a palpable air of annoyance, was Jack. Emera tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned a little ways through the opening.

"I'm sorry, Jack." She kept her voice low as she spoke to him, "I couldn't get away."

"Never mind that." He replied and reached out to her, "Come down."

"What?" She blinked at him.

"Come down." He repeated, "You can shimmy down that drain pipe."

"Don't be absurd!" She hissed through her teeth.

"I'm not." He shot back, "I need your help, now come on!"

"Shh! Ye'll wake the whole building!" She snapped.

"If you don't climb your bitter-little-self down that drain pipe in the time it takes for me to count to three, I swear on pain of bereavement, that I will caterwaul until every soul in Tortuga has been woken, savvy?" He threatened, "Now _come on_!"

Emera glared down at him sharply.

"One." He raised a finger.

"No." She shot.

"Two." He raised another.

She let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine! At least let me clothe myself first!"

She darted back into her room. Scrambling to pull her trousers on over her bloomers, she wondered for a moment just what the hell she was getting herself into. Clearly he was desperate for her help, otherwise he wouldn't have come. Not bothering with her shirt, should Jack start bellowing like a mad man while she fumbled with her buttons, she pulled her coat on over her underbodice. She also abandoned the blue bandanna she was so fond of, deciding that it would be a waste of time to struggle with. Dropping to the floor, she hauled on her boots. Then she snatched up her sword belt and darted for the window.

Emera tossed her sword belt over one shoulder and gingerly slipped out the window. It must have been a story to the ground below, which from her current position looked rather farther than it had a moment ago. She swallowed hard but managed to choke back her fear. It was a tricky business finding a solid foothold. Her boot slipped more than once, causing her heart to leap into her throat. She clung to the metal drainpipe for dear life, terrified that she might lose her footing. It was the second time in the same day that she would have to scale down a wall. The girl struggled down the pipe, taking it slow and nearly holding her breath. Meanwhile Jack snickered at her from below.

"This isn't as easy as it looks." She snapped.

"Well hurry it up, Love. I haven't got all night." He returned, but Emera could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'd like t' see you try this." She mumbled.

"Eh?"

"Nothing." She rolled her eyes.

A few more feet and she would be down the pipe. Moving her hand to the next hold, she caught her palm on a sharp piece of metal. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from crying out in pain. The cut hurt like hell. It burned and she could feel hot beads of blood bubbling up to the surface of her skin. Emera fumbled the rest of the way down to the street, careful of her palm and well aware of the tears that were sliding down her face. When her boots hit dirt she wiped her eyes quickly with her sleeve. Then she turned to look at Jack.

"Alright, Darling." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Fine." She said and rubbed her eyes again, "I cut my hand, is all. It's not bad. Now, what the hell is so important that I had to scale a building?"

She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her handkerchief. She quickly wrapped it around her left palm, covering the cut. It wasn't the best bandage in the world but at least it was better than nothing.

"I'll explain on the way." He told her as he took her arm.

Jack directed her down the street, speaking in a hushed and urgent tone. He explained that the business he had at the docks had gone pear-shaped. It was always going to be a two person job, however now it was slightly more complicated. He required Emera to keep watch as he completed what needed doing. And, he added almost as a second thought, her assistance should the worst happen. Emera was suddenly glad that she had grabbed her sword.

Although the tone in his voice should have warned her that he was up to no good, Emera just nodded and tried to keep pace with him. When he finished his account of what would take place, he fell silent beside her. She didn't bother trying to speak to him. A change had come over him since their parting earlier that evening. He was hardly like the man that had walked her back to the Inn. His eyes were darker than usual somehow and held a steady determination that she had never seen before. He was focused on the world that was set just before him, not looking right or left. The two nearly flew down the street. Jack was taking long strides, almost as though he wanted to run. Emera struggled to keep up. If not for the firm grip he had on her arm she no doubt would have been left behind. She watched his face as she trailed after him but she could find no answer for his sudden pressing attitude. Whatever was waiting at the docks must have been vital indeed.

The harbor was eerily quiet when the two Pirates got there. The only sounds were the steady lapping of the waves and the tone of an occasional ship bell. The docks were lit by low burning lanterns that cast deep shadows across the bodies of the ships. Above them, a sliver moon hung in the sky, giving the setting a supernatural feel. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air around them. Jack lead Emera down row after row of docked ships. Clearly he was looking for a certain one. She followed in silence, afraid that she would cause the world to shatter if she spoke. Heavy tension stretched between the pair as they hurried from one boat to the next. A stray breath could have snapped the invisible cord. She could tell that Jack was worried and that knowledge cause her own stomach to churn. Emera didn't notice when he stopped moving. She walked into his shoulder which was, remarkably, very much like a solid wall.

"Oi!" She hissed under her breath, finally speaking.

"Shh!" He shot back, "Found her."

'Her' was a small, single mast fishing dory, little bigger than a dinghy. It's sails were reefed and she was flying colours that Emera didn't recognize. On the back of the small boat were the words: _The Jolly Mon._ It looked to be in good shape despite a few imperfections here and there. She was tied up tight to the dock and there wasn't another soul in sight. Obviously Jack wasn't planning on purchasing the boat.

"We're taking that ship, aren't we?" Emera asked him, her voice low.

He shot her a glance, "I'm going to borrow it. Now go keep watch."

"You said this business was honest." She pointed out as she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"I said 'mostly honest' as I recall. I'm going to bring it back, Love. Promise." He flashed her a smile but it dropped as he looked past her, "Bugger!"

Emera spun on her heel and followed his gaze. Down at the other end of the dock she saw what he had seen. A very livid looking Pirate girl was coming towards them. She was a tall, dark Lass with a face that would have been lovely had it not been twisted in rage. Her eyes matched her raven hair and she wore a tattered orange bandanna across her brow. Emera understood at once that this must be the dory's rightful owner.

"Sparrow!" The girl hollered at them.

Emera heard Jack make a whimpering noise in the back of his throat. The furious Pirate girl drew her sword and looked ready to use it against them. She closed the space between them with a few long-legged strides. She barely glanced at Emera before focusing all her rage and attention onto Jack.

"Anamaria," He raised his hands in surrender as he addressed the young woman, "let's be reasonable about this, Love."

"Reasonable my arse!" Her voice was dark and slightly accented, "I refuse to sell my boat to you, so you steal it?!"

"I'll bring it back." He assured her.

"Sparrow, I swear to the powers above! If you step _one foot_ in _my_ boat, I'll _end_ you!" She vowed as she brandished her cutlass.

"Emera." Jack said very calmly, "Get into the boat."

Anamaria let out a furious cry and swung her sword at Jack. He danced out of the way and drew his own weapon. The Pirate girl turned on Emera, making a move that surely would have taken off her head. Emera ducked, pulled out her blade and stood ready to fight. Anamaria swiped at her but, like Jack, she avoided the strike. Her heels kissed the edge of the dock, causing her to totter dangerously for a moment. Jack rushed towards her. Emera grabbed at his sleeves for support, but he had something else in mind. He shoved Emera and she toppled backwards into _The Jolly Mon._

"Make sail!" He yelled at her as he evaded Anamaria.

Emera didn't question him. She dropped her sword, stood and set to work un-reefing the sails. From the corner of her eye she saw Jack blocking another blow. He spun out from under Anamaria's blade. Then, in a smooth gliding motion, he brought his sword down on the mooring line that held the boat in place. At once the wind caught the now opened sails and _The Jolly Mon _began to move away from the dock. The sudden movement made Emera topple over again. She fell beside the tiller but righted herself quickly. Grabbing hold of the navigational tool she guided the ship along the side of the dock.

"Jack!" She yelled.

"A little busy!" He replied, " Anamaria, Love, can't we just talk this out?"

The Pirate swung at him again, "No!"

"I thought not." He sounded almost sorry as he danced away from her.

Jack ducked around behind her and grabbed hold of her belt. He shoved her towards the edge of the dock. Anamaria hit water with an impressive splash and let out a murderous cry when she surfaced again. Jack belted his sword then pressed his palms together in an apologetic bow. He wasted no time retreating. The young man bolted down the dock in a mess of waving limbs and locks. He raced alongside the dory as it glided towards the open ocean. Then, so calmly that Emera could hardly believe it, he jumped. Jack must have cleared 3 feet of water before landing hard in the bottom of the little ship. Emera nearly screamed out of both horror and glee.

"I'll make you pay for this!" Anamaria hollered from the water.

"My apologies, Love!" Jack called back to her as he righted himself, "I'll make it up to you, I swear!"

The Pirate Lass screamed after them until they were too far to make out what she was saying. Jack settled back against the side of the boat, draping his arms over the edge. He had returned to his old self again. That much was clear from the gleam in his eye. Emera couldn't help but smile as she continued to navigate the little boat out into open water.

"Yer mad... ya know that?" She laughed a little.

"It's been brought to my attention a time or two." He admitted.

"Would ya mind telling me what the hell just happened?" She asked, "Who was that woman?"

Jack cleared his throat a little, "Her name is Anamaria. She's a... an old friend of mine."

"Ah." Emera nodded.

He changed the subject, "Sail us 'round to the far end of the beach, Darling. You can disembark there and make your way back to the Inn."

"And you?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He only smiled in response. Emera shook her head at him. He could be so fantastic one moment and then so completely irritating the next. She could hardly keep up with him. But she found that she liked trying. Emera glanced at him quickly. He was looking out past the sails, his eyes locked onto the horizon. Even though she couldn't define the feelings she had for him, she knew that they were strong. Stronger than anything she had felt before.

"Where ever my compass takes me, I suppose." He finally replied, "And a few distinct Ports."

"No doubt you'll have the grandest of adventures." She added.

"Oh, to be sure, Love." He smiled to himself.

"I wish there was a way I could hear about them." She said softly, "I love yer stories."

Jack finally looked at her, "Is that so, Darling?"

"It is." She nodded, "And I must admit, I have several of my own that I wish I had the time t' tell you."

Jack hummed to himself then said, "Perhaps there is a way."

For a moment, Emera's heart fluttered with the hope that he would ask her to go with him. She knew she couldn't, but she found herself wanting him to ask. At least it would mean that he cared about her... wouldn't it? After everything they had been through together, Emera couldn't ignore the fact that he had wormed his way into her heart. She only hoped that she had managed the same thing.

"How?" Her voice nearly caught in her throat.

"That knook we hid in the first day we meet... do you remember where it is?" He asked her.

Emera bottled her disappointment and said, "Of course."

"It seems to me that it would make an excellent cash." He explained, "A place where we might keep notes and the like to one another, savvy?"

"Like our own private postal office." She found herself grinning at him.

"Indeed, Love." He nodded, "Each time one of us makes Port here, we leave a note for the other containing an account of our latest adventures."

Emera looked at him from under her bangs, "Ya know... I'll expect t' hear from you all the time. If I don't I'll start t' think something's happened t' you."

"Is that so?" He laughed a little.

"Aye." She nodded

He chuckled a little and looked back out to sea. Jack really was a beautiful young man. It wasn't just his features that Emera found pleasing. It was everything. Emera looked away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She tried to focus on the tiller in her hand but she found that her mind wandered despite her best efforts. She thought about the young woman that they had stolen the boat from. Anamaria. She obviously had been quiet familiar with Jack, leading Emera to believe that they had some kind of history together. She knew from the beginning that Jack had a way with women. It had been as clear as day. She wondered, idly, if Anamaria and Jack had been lovers at one point. If that were true it would certainly explain a lot.

"Jack..." She said after a moment.

"Aye?" He turned to face her.

"I was just curious... you and Anamaria... how do ya know each other?" She tried to sound casual.

"That's quite a long story." He told her gently, "Perhaps I'll tell it to you someday. I do, however, feel the need to thank you. You were remarkable back there. I knew I was right about you."

"Right about what?" She raised her eyebrow.

"Oh, I just knew that you'd come in handy, is all." He shrugged, "From the moment we met I knew you would be useful."

Useful. Like a sextant when one needed to know an angle or a pocket watch when one required the time. She had been _useful _to him. Emera could almost feel the hole that his words were boring into her chest. Now she understood why he had wanted to spend time with her. He saw her the same way he saw those whores from the brothel. To him, she was nothing more than a particular tool that was suited for a particular job.

"I was useful...?" She couldn't believe it.

"Very." He smiled at her.

Emera was astonished, "All along... everything we did together... That's why ya asked me t' the tavern, isn't it? You knew all the while that I'd be the perfect one t' help you steal this pathetic boat!"

"Why do I have the distinct feeling that you're angry with me?" He stared at her as though he expected the answer to be on her face somewhere.

"Angry?" She scoffed, "Angry is putting it mildly. I'm right pissed with ya. All this time I've been nothing more than a tool t' you! And here I am thinking that... I was so certain that you..."

She was so hurt that she couldn't even finish a thought. Emera balled her hands into fists as she stared at him with utter ferocity. He had been planning since the beginning, aiming to win her over with charm and stateliness so that at his word she would jump without a moment's hesitation. Everything had been a part of his plan. The tavern, the lighthouse, the cakes and sweets... even walking her home. It had all been to his design. And it had worked. She had gone along with him, following his every word, never questioning him for a second.

"I trusted you!" She shook her head, "And all this time you were using me! Is that what you did t' Anamaria? Did you make her care about ya just so you could walk all over her? I feel retched for commandeering her ship, if that's the case. You deserve whatever she does t' ya the next time you meet!"

"Calm down, Love." He raised his hands, "Let's talk this over like civilized folk."

"I cared about you..." Her voice trembled, "but you can go t' Hell for all I care!"

Emera simply couldn't take it. She ripped off her coat before flying to her feet, rocking the ship violently. Without a second thought she leapt off the side of the boat and threw herself into the water. The icy, black, ocean swallowed her up as she plunged into its depths. It was a moment before she surfaced again in a rush of water. All she could think about was getting as far away from Jack as possible. Aiming for the harbor, the young sailor forced her freezing body to move. She swam as best she could, arms and legs pumping, despite the cold. Her clothes soaked up the sea and grew heavy with its weight as she moved. Emera had to fight to keep her head above water.

_'Get away from him.' _She told herself, _'Just get t' land and ye'll be free of him.'_

In her opinion, it was a brilliant plan, however what she hadn't counted on was Jack. As she clawed at the water hands came down on her back. Fingers gripped her underbodice and a strong pair of arms hauled her out of the water. She was dragged back into _The Jolly Mon_, water sloshing in her wake. She landed face down on the deck, coughing and spluttering. Jack held her tight, keeping her in place so as to prevent her from fleeing again. Emera gazed up at him from where she lay. He stared down at her with a heavy mix of rage and confusion dancing across his features.

"Are you mad?!" He demanded, "What were you thinking?! Do you want to drown, is that it?!"

"Let go of me!" She screamed, "Jack, let go!"

"I think not, Darling." His voice was raised and serious, "Not till you've recovered from your apparent slip in sanity."

She struggled against him, "Take yer slimy, grimy, wretched, horrible, grabby Fambles off of me, you Looby Lipspittle! I'll put you in yer Eternity Box ya Rantipole! Let go of me! Let go, let go, let go!"

He let her run on like that for a while. Emera spat and swore until she was very nearly out of breath. And still she continued, riddling him with everything she could think of. Jack simply held her and took everything she threw at him. She kicked and thrash about until she'd tired herself out. She lay there, chest aching and sopping wet. Jack, seeing that she was spent, released her at last. Emera couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"If you're so desperate to be rid of me then I'll take you to shore." He grumbled and moved to the tiller, "At least that way you won't drown."

Emera rolled over onto her side so that she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. She trembled all over from cold and hugged herself. Leaping into the ocean had been a horrible mistake, she saw that now. The young sailor had been so desperate to get away from Jack that she hadn't properly considered what would happen to her. She could hear Jack from where he sat behind her, muttering something about 'scaring him to death' under his breath. She didn't care and she wasn't sorry. If she thought she could survive the swim back to the harbor, she would have leapt right back into the sea.

"Put your bloody coat on." Jack said, irritated, and tossed the article of clothing over top of her, "You'll catch your death just laying there."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She slipped her arms into her sleeves and drew the jacket tightly around her. It blocked out the wind some, which seemed to stop her from shaking. Heartsick and hurting, the girl convinced herself to look at her companion. He sat, the tiller in his hand, gazing past the sails. Seeing him now, she couldn't understand why she had ever trusted him. He was the perfect model of a black-hearted cur. The features and mannerisms she had found so pleasing a short time ago made her sick now. She turned away, certain that she would vomit or burst into tears if she watched him any longer.

"Answer me one thing, Sparrow?" She finally addressed him.

"Aye." His voice was tight with frustration.

"Why me?" Emera pushed herself up slowly, "Of all the people on this Godforsaken Island... why choose me to be your pawn?"

"Pawn?" He spoke the word as though it had a bad taste, "You were never my pawn, Love."

She looked at him wearily, "Why should I believe you now? You said so yerself... I was merely useful to you."

"I meant no disrespect, Darling." He explained, "I only meant that I knew you were one to be counted on. But of course you went and lost your head before I could tell my side of the tale."

"For someone who knows a lot of complicated words, you certainly have a shite way of expressing yerself." She leaned against the side of the boat, exhausted.

"You don't bloody listen." He shot back, "If you did then you wouldn't have thought twice about taking a swim. I would have made myself clear had you asked, savvy?"

"Then enlighten me." She snapped.

"I'll admit that my intention was to use you when first we met." He started, "Then I got to know you, and you became so much more than just another tool. You're trustworthy and quick to act in a pinch... not to mention rather clever."

She shrugged against the boat side, "Either way ya look at it, I landed in the drink."

"Now, that bit was your fault." He looked at her, "I'll not let you blame me for your poor decisions."

She snorted and met his gaze, "Diving off the side of this infernal ship was a mistake, I know that. But so was manipulating my feelings for you. That was _yer_ poor decision."

Surprisingly, Jack cracked a smile, "So... you have feelings for me, do you?"

"Weather I do or don't isn't important." She mumbled.

"That certainly would explain our rather... personal... farewell earlier this evening." He pressed, smirking at her.

"Sod off." She scowled at him, "I was thankful. If I could, I'd take it back. As for my feelings towards you... well... there none too pleasant at the moment."

"Hmm... but you do have some for me." He gave her a bold grin.

She rolled her eyes and snorted at him, "Just take me to shore."


	9. Part 9

Together, Emera and Jack pushed _The Jolly Mon_ onto the beach. Their boots sloshed in the shallow water as they clambered to shore. Soaked past their knees, the two collapsed into the sand. The fishing dory bobbed slightly with the lapping waves but held fast onto the soggy beach. Emera watched the slack, tattered sails flutter with the ocean breeze. She had to admit, the small boat wasn't completely useless. She had a feeling that it would serve Jack well.

She looked up at the stars and said, "This place is so different than I thought it would be."

"In what way?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I dunno..." She paused, "I'm not sure what I expected when we made Port here. I just know that it's different from what I thought."

"Welcome to Tortuga, Love." He grinned at her, raising his arms in a loose shrug, "It's never what it seems and you never know what you'll find."

"I certainly didn't expect t' find you." She sat up and hugged her knees.

He looked at her, "How exactly are we feeling about ol' Jack? You were awfully quiet the last ways of our trek."

"I was thinking... Jack, yer an annoying, self important, Shabbaroon." She said flatly, then smirked, "But I would be lying t' say that I haven't met worse than you. Daft and infuriating as you are, I suppose yer not all bad. I acted rashly and took offence before I knew the whole story."

"And I should have been honest from our first meeting. I'm forgiven then?" He raised an eyebrow.

She thought hard for a moment then said, "Aye. But I still don't trust you."

"Fair enough, Darling." He agreed.

Jack chuckled and sat up, wrapping an arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, giving in, too cold and tired to fight. They sat there like that for a while, just watching the sea in silence. Emera had meant what she said. When her father's ship had made Port she hadn't been sure what she would find. She never imagined that someone like Jack would come along and change everything. Secretly, she was glad that he had but Emera would be damned if she ever let him know. She was still hurting from his earlier betrayal. 'Oh, Darling, at first I was using you but then I changed my mind' wasn't much of an apology, but she assumed it was the best that she would get out of him. Besides, there really wasn't much point in pressing it any farther. He would be gone soon enough and, as much as she didn't want to think about it, she knew that there was little chance she would ever see him again. Her chest hurt once more but this time it was different. It wasn't the sharp, hot pain of treachery. This time it was the deep, hollow ach that came from sorrow.

Jack glanced down at her and said softly, "I should be off, Love."

"I suppose you should." She agreed, regret in her voice.

He shifted so that he could look at her properly, "Emera, I honestly appreciated your help, Love. Know that."

"I do." She nodded, "And I want you to have this."

Emera fumbled with one of her bracelets. Snapping the thin cord that fastened it around her wrist, she pulled off one of her favorites. It was a silver sea coin on which a bright blue wave had been painted. She held it in her palm, offering it to him.

"Are you certain, Love?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Aye." She smiled, "To remember me by."

Jack grinned at her, accepting the coin. Then he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in close to her. He pressed his lips to her forehead gently, kissing her. It was only a moment before he pulled away and Emera felt that the sweet embrace was over too soon. Jack looked at her and smiled again, his eyes taking in her face. Then he stood and brushed himself off. Emera rose as well, hugging herself a little as she watched him shove the boat back into the sea. He leapt into the craft, then turned to look at her.

"Emera?" He called back to her.

"Aye?"

"I feel I must tell you that I didn't _really_ think you were a Lad when we first met." He admitted with a smirk.

"You didn't?" She called back.

"No, Love." He replied laughing, "Not for a single moment."

"Then why did you...?" She trailed off and laughed to herself, "Yer the strangest man I've ever met, Captain Sparrow!"

He beamed at her and touched his bandanna in a gentle salute. Emera raised a hand in farewell as she watched him sail away from the shore. In a matter of moments, both Jack and _The Jolly Mon_ had vanished into the darkness of the night. In the span of a few short hours Jack Sparrow had swooped into her life and sailed right back out of it leaving her completely changed. He was indeed the strangest man she had ever met. But he was also the most extraordinary. Jack had only been gone a few moments and Emera was already missing him. She hadn't thought it was possible.

Suddenly something Jack had said in the tavern flashed across her memory, _"Have you ever sat on a beach and been forced to watched the most important thing in your life sail off without you?"_

He had been right. It wasn't pleasant. She stood alone on the beach, watching the spot where he had disappeared. It was a while before she could convince herself to move. After what seemed like a long time, she resolved that he wasn't coming back. Emera stalked up the beach towards the Inn. She was still thoroughly soaked to the bone, her boots sloshing slightly as she walked. The young sailor pulled her coat around herself tightly but it was no use. By the time she reached the Inn, Emera shook with cold.

She slipped in through the front door and padded softly to the staircase. The clock on the wall behind the main desk informed her that it was 3 a.m. She groaned a little, wondering how she wasn't more tired. As she approached the steps she rounded the corner slowly for fear that her father might once again be waiting for her. Luckily he wasn't. She let out a small sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't have to suffer through another ordeal with him. If fortune was on her side, her father would be sound asleep in his room, oblivious to the fact that she had been gone at all. Emera wearily climbed up the staircase completely and positively worn-out. All she wanted was to change out of her sopping clothes before drifting into what was sure to be a dreamless sleep.

When the young sailor reached her room she opened the door gingerly. For some reason or other, under the cover of nightfall, every single sound seemed to be amplified to ten times its normal volume. She held her breath as she turned the handle, scared that she would give herself away. The door clicked lightly and she was able to duck into her bedroom virtually soundless, closing the portal tightly behind her. Believing she was safe at last, Emera relaxed. She slipped out of her coat and turned. A shrill scream of absolute horror exploded from her before she could clap her hand over her mouth.

Sitting on a stool near the still open window was her father. He was practically engulfed in the heavy shadow that coated the room, but his silhouette was unmistakable. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, pumping the urge to flee through her veins. Without a word Flint struck a match, which cast dim light over his features, and lit the lantern he retrieved from somewhere beside him. The lamp illuminated the room in a wash of gold. With its aid Emera could clearly see the relentless look on her father's face. She thought he might burst at any moment if she weren't careful. His face was nearly the same colour as his hair, burning scarlet with the pure rage that boiled under his skin. Emera readied herself for the hurricane of his fury to crash down upon her. Flint rose to his full measure, towering over her, and took in a deep breath.

"Double duties for four months. To start." He began in an unexpectedly calm voice, "No shore leave for three months, unless accompanied at all times. Galley duty for five weeks and half rations for two. Night watch for the foreseeable future, no special privileges, no free time, no interacting with the general crew unless giving orders. Up tomorrow at dawn to help load the ship where, I might add, you will be staying for the remainder of our stay here. And I don't even want to know why yer in yer underbodice. Am I clear?"

"Aye, Sir." She replied softly, not bothering to argue or complain.

"Bed. Now." He ordered then stalked out of the room, all but slamming the door behind him as he left.

Emera counted herself lucky. As harsh as he was on her, she knew that it could have been a great deal worse. Her life would be a living Hell over the next few months. But she deserved it and would bare her punishment as best she could. At the moment all she could think about was sleep. She would fret about the labor she was condemned to in the morning.


	10. Part 10

Emera collapsed against the side of a crate. Her arms and back ached, sweat caused her clothes to cling to her skin and her eyes burned with exhaustion. She sucked back a few breaths as she leaned alongside the coop. Glancing down the gangplank, the young sailor's stomach rolled as she realized her work wasn't even a quarter of the way finished. Of course she had the help of able seamen, but most of the work seemed to be her responsibility. No doubt her father's doing. She knew that she deserved what she was getting. However that didn't stop her from grumbling under her breath or cursing occasionally.

"Step too, Master Flint." Her father ordered as he passed, carrying a small barrel under one arm.

"Aye, Captain." She sighed and rose to her feet.

Tromping down the gangplank she jammed her hands into her trouser pockets. They had been hard at work for hours and the job wouldn't be finished for quite a few more. Men called to one another and tossed each other ropes and supplies. The hold of _The Rose _was being loaded at a steady enough pace, with large bundles of provisions being lowered into the ships belly at even intervals. Emera had to duck past a pair of crewmen as she moved to her next task. The crates weighed nearly as much as she did and had to be pushed up the gangplank by hand. She braced her hands on the far side, putting all her effort into moving the coop forward. It didn't budge an inch. Emera sighed and dropped herself onto the wooden box, her torso laying across its top lazily.

"Need a hand there, do you?" Came a familiar voice from somewhere behind her.

Emera turned.

Standing there, looking quite sure of herself was Kay, the girl that had fought with Emera in the tavern. She smiled at Emera, hands on her hips. Emera straightened herself, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"Are you offering?" She asked the girl.

"I am." Kay nodded.

Emera smiled. Kay joined her and together they worked to shove the crate up the gangplank. The work was lighter as it was being shared by two. Kay was remarkably strong and took most of the burden with Emera guiding them in the direction they needed to go. The crate was in place in record time. Without hesitation both girls set out for another, and then another, and another after that. When they had loaded their fourth crate they planted themselves atop a fifth, taking a moment to breath.

"Once again, you've come t' my rescue." Emera laughed a little.

"I seem to be making a habit of it." Kay grinned.

Emera rubbed her shoulder and said, "I really don't know how t' repay ya. I feel like I own you the world."

Kay laughed loudly, "Honestly, Em. I don't even know what I would ask of you."

She thought for a moment, determined to reimburse her new friend. It was when her father walked by, shooting them a questioning glance, that she came up with an idea. By Emera's account it was brilliant (and in no way similar to how she had believed leaping out of a ship in the middle of the night was brilliant.) This time she was convinced that it was real, genuine, honest to goodness, intelligence.

"Dad!" She called out to him.

"Aye?" He raised an eyebrow and came to stand before the two girls.

"Do we have any available positions aboard the ship?" Emera asked him.

He rubbed his beard, thinking, "Well... there's always room for hands before the mast. I reckon we're short a Powder Monkey or two. Why?"

Emera turned to Kay, "How would ya like t' sail aboard _The Rose_? She's a fine ship, I assure you, the finest I've ever seen. The crew is reasonable enough and you'll have an Officer on yer side."

"Sail? With you?" She grinned from ear to ear and looked up at Flint, "Would that be alright, Sir? Can I join your crew?"

"Yer fit for duty?" He studied her carefully.

"Aye, Sir." She nodded.

"And you've experience sailing?" He questioned.

"Aye, Sir. Sailed aboard a clipper when I crossed from England." She replied.

"Hmm..." He rubbed his hand across his beard again, "Well, I don't see why not. I'll expect hard work and discipline. No mucking about with my daughter... who is still being reprimanded and should be working."

The two leapt to their feet and said together, "Aye, Sir."

Flint let out a gruff laugh and continued on his way. Emera and Kay gripped one another in excitement, jumping and laughing with glee. Emera could hardly believe it. Yes, she was condemned to months of servitude aboard her father's ship as recompense for her poor behavior, but Kay had been permitted to sail with them. No matter what was to come, at least she would have the bright company of her new friend.

"Welcome aboard _The Rose_, Miss Smith." Emera beamed.

"A pleasure to be aboard." She replied, sharing in her enthusiasm.

They set to work once more. Together they moved crates, barrels and all manner of cargo until the task became almost like second nature. The two girls chatted happily with one another as they worked. Emera regaled Kay with every detail of what had happened between herself and Jack. Kay nodded and listened, deeply interested. Emera found it a relief to share the account with someone. The lightening of her mood was almost tangible and as she relayed the tale she was please to find that the ach in her chest began to fade. Emera knew deep within herself that she would miss Jack more than she would ever show. For a short time, he had been her whole world. He was an incredibly unique and extraordinary being that had graced her with his presences for a short time. She would never forget him as long as she lived.

Standing at the edge of the ship, Emera looked out across Tortuga. It had been different than she had expected, but she wouldn't change a single thing. It was mid day and the harbor was alive with hundreds of seafaring folk. Men worked, sailors tended to their ships and strumpets walked the docks. The sounds of arguing, chatting and singing wafted through the humid air in dozens of languages, but each voice spoke in the same tongue. The tongue of the sea. Emera had to admit that Tortuga by night, in all its dizzying colours and fragrances, was something the likes of which she had never seen before. But the young sailor's heart belonged to the Tortuga that could only be experienced during the day. The Tortuga in which she had met the man named Captain Jack Sparrow.

The End

***All "Pirates of the Caribbean" characters (including _The Jolly Mon_) of course belong to Disney. Emera, Captain Flint, Kay and Philips (and T_he Rose_) happen to belong to me. Tortuga, I suppose, belongs to the Caribbean. I'd like to thank you all for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. Oh! And stay tuned, cause even though it says "The End" you can bet your bullion it's not quite over yet. ;)***


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue:

It had been six months since Emera had been back in Tortuga. As she wandered the streets lazily she was pleased to see that it had hardly changed in her absence. She strolled down a cobblestone street, passing by a familiar brothel. It seemed to the girl that Tortuga was the only constant thing in the rapidly changing world she lived in. The sky could burn but the steadfast port would still be littered with cheerful drunks, alluring wenches and tavern brawls. Tortuga would never change. And that was just the way Emera liked it.

Turning this way and that without really paying any attention to her direction, Emera found herself in an ally that she recognized. Sure enough, it was the very alley in which she had met Jack on her fist visit to Tortuga. The Pirate almost expected him to come flying down the walkway, sweeping her up in his wake. He didn't however. The alley was as calm and undisturbed as a clear day.

_'Starboard.'_ She thought and followed the directions, _'Aye, then Port!'_

She stood before a 3 foot gap in a wall. During her first encounter with the knook it had served as a hiding place for her and Jack. How the two of them had ever managed to cram themselves into the small space would forever be a mystery. She recalled the venture as though it had been yesterday and laughed to herself when she remembered how she had punched Jack clean in the face. She also remembered the idea they had while sitting in a stolen boat. Emera rubbed the back of her neck and stared at the knook.

"I wonder..." She mused aloud.

The young sailor reached into the gap. She ran her hand along the rough walls, feeling for what she knew wouldn't be there. It was mad to think that he would remember what they had agreed on. In fact she didn't even know why she was torturing herself. She was about to recoil her arm when her fingers brushed across exactly what she was looking for. A note. A note rolled up and jammed into a cranny in the wall. Her fingers closed around it, drawing it from its hiding place. Emera nearly held her breath as she smoothed out the crumpled piece of parchment.

Black ink covered the note in a sweeping, muddled scrawl. Emera's face lit up as she took in the words and her chest felt lighter than it had in months. It read:

_Emera,_

_It is my pleasure to inform you that since our parting I have had a number of grand adventures that I believe would be to your liking. One in particular comes to mind. Trusting that you receive this in a timely manner, I humbly request that you join me in the Grand Bahamas before Midsummer. I shall be there myself all though June. Meet me in a tavern called The Mermaid's Song. I should like for you to share in my latest exploit. Here's hoping we can convene._

_Yours,_

_Captain Jack Sparrow._

_P.S. What do you know of Masquerade Balls?_


End file.
